I get to use expletives.

Do you think you are capable of betraying me? Is it really one of your concerns? You know, betrayal takes two sides. What you look at as betrayal I see as simple necessity. We have no choice but to behave responsibly when we are around others – I don't care to be hung for a crime I haven't committed.

And that, for me, is where the story begins.

I suck at secrets. I don't want to complicate your life, or mine. I have made promises, and your presence makes those promises difficult to keep. (I have a hard time using “him” when I've already created an alter-ego for this mess. I'm here for you and will address you as such. Though reading “her” makes me blush.) How I feel about you doesn't lessen how I feel about my husband – or my pets or a really good cheesecake, for that matter. It merely increases the number of things that bring me joy.

And I have a hard time seeing where that's wrong.

Should I attempt narrative? I don't have your eloquence.

It all started with “oh, shit.”

Sure, there were glints before then. Times when I flirted just a bit too much or our conversations connected a bit too easily. We have always felt – even in the times before we were admitting to anything, even in the times before “like” was an option, when you still thought I was bitchy and I still thought you were arrogant – like co-conspirators. I have always seen you as a partner in crime, a colleague, an equal. Maybe like Greek men didn't see their affairs with men or boys as anything like their affairs with women. Perhaps that's it. Perhaps this works because you aren't my spouse. It's distinct and separate because we aren't spouses and don't behave that way. We're not trying to fill holes with each other.

So, back to things.

I might have crawled across a table knowing exactly what I was doing.

I might have pressed a political argument knowing exactly what I was doing.

I might have seen the warning signs, but I was unprepared for you to call and ask me to stop by. The tone changed. The feel – even over the phone – was different. I knew if I did as you asked, things would never be the same.

And I hung up the phone and said, “oh, shit.”

Where do you go from there? Unavoidable? Really? I've built my life on the idea that while I can't control my feelings, I can control their expression. I am a rational being, and as such, can control all actions that aren't reflexes.

Last I checked, you weren't just whacking me on the knee.

Wow. I sound like the hostile half of this. :)