Kate - A Love Story (mf)

1

To be in love with a beautiful woman is a heavy thing.

Inspired by Kundera, all my youth has been the obsessive focus towards lightness.

Jealousy is a category of phenomena that I have observed, but never understood. My gut reaction is always 'live and let go,' and I always seem to find another girl. There is no shortage of beautiful women in this world.

The scarcity of beautiful women is the biggest myth told to man. They are all over the place, you just need to know where to look, and how to be. There is always another.

I often have daydreams similar to the movie Crazy Stupid Love where I take some man under my wing and explain my views on dating and finding women and being attractive-- a weird blend of my own personal misogyny, bequeathed to me by my own father, and confidence.

Needless to say, dating has always been a light affair with me. Until I met Kate. We met at a bar downtown and immediately fell into a grove with one another. There are people in the world where your personalities match and the fire of repertoire reaches a bonfire ine less than five minutes. Kate and I were like that for one another.

Kate is 5' 5'' with short brown hair, cut to frame her face, with a medium sized nose and big bright eyes. The most apparent features of Kate are her eyes and her mouth. Everything else falls into the backdrop when I look at her, a blankness, blending her a strange amorphous focus.

Kate has confident eyes that stare right back at you, they feel not the need to look away every so often like most eyes. They are there to dance with you, not look down. Her eyes are different from a stare. I get the feeling of her eyes piercing into me, genuinely interested, trying to understand what is there.

Kate's eyes pierce into me, while her sharp red mouth pours conversation. The first time I looked at Kate an instinctive urge to have my way with her, to just take her, came over me. It was a shameful thought, but it possessed me nonetheless. I just wanted, no needed, my mouth against hers, a taste of her. I didn't even really want to fuck her so much as I wanted to just kiss her, to possess that mouth, to have her mouth against me.

My first words to Kate were something stupid, of that I am sure, but I do not remember what they were. I was entranced by Kate, her mouth and those eyes. I spewed introductory garbage that festers in every meeting, but we quickly fell into the groove of comfortable conversation.

And the next thing I knew, my arm was around her and we were walking to her apartment.

2

Kate was quick to her apartment, yet slow to bed.

Kate made me coffee with her glass Chemex and we sat close together on her couch. We caressed one another, drank coffee, talked, and teased endlessly.

I quickly finished my cup. She made another.

We must have been like this for two hours before Kate permitted my lips to touch hers. Immediately she was mine, giving me everything I asked for and more.

I felt pent up and anxious from the coffee and teasing. Thus the chemistry between us was unbelievable. I could not believe the sensations that came down my spine. It's like we instinctively knew each other's wants and needs and moved in tandem accordingly.

As I said earlier, some people have immediate repertoire in conversation, some people have immediate repertoire in the bedroom.

Kate sent me to the edge where I could not recover. We moaned and sputtered into one another,

I often think of how strange sex between humans is. Imagine an alien from outer space observing Kate and I in this most intimate of moments. How awkward it must seem and how mechanically goofy it is to an alien perspective.

Thus, I mechanically goofed myself into Katy, with the deepest satisfaction. Her eyes pierced into me, her sharp red mouth tasting and pulling me into her. Her hair bobbed and danced.

I spiraled down the vortex, from which there was no return.

3

Love comes faster than seasons change.

I tried and tried to explain my feelings to myself, but I could not grasp the vortex I was in.

Kate and I were, as far as I could tell, just fuckbuddies. Kate would text me late on a Friday or Saturday night, maybe a Sunday afternoon, and we would talk and drink coffee for a couple of hours as we teased and touched one another, and then fuck.

Yet I thought about her at all hours of the day. I would wake up to Katy, go to bed with Katy, like an Idyl that had infected my spirit.

I had never burned with want so badly in my life.

Is want the same as love?

And I had her, at least for a night here or there. I didn't want to risk fucking anything up, what if she doesn't want to be anything more than a tryst.

Why not be content with a night here or there, that is the dream right, a quick fuck without the relationship aspect. I'm living the dream.

Well, why does everything feel so damn heavy.

4

There's a theory that modern people are unable to feel the full weight and range of emotions life has to offer. We are too far removed from base living, too far removed from Nature. And all of Post-Agriculture life has been a decay of emotions. Society wallowing out in apathy without any real, natural stimuli. And without any of the stimuli we are evolved to respond too, our emotions and how we feel is all discombobulated and fucked up.

Maybe I'm fucked up in the head, that's why I've fallen in love with my tryst-mate Kate, my fuckbuddy.

What kind of guy does that, what kind of man is that? A free lay-- why mess it up? Perhaps I cannot see clearly. I'm bling. I'm in the dark. Maybe too much acid and weed has fucked my brain? But I feel how I feel.

5

Kate and I continued to see one another like this for six months, a day here, an afternoon there-- all the while I was in the deepest throes of love and obsession.

The last time Kate and I met; she had a ring on her finger. Some asshole named B-------- M--- had proposed to her. Kate told me she said yes.

Kate made me coffee with her glass Chemex. Neither of us said anything.

We made love one last time and I drove home.