Confession to a Lost Love

Dear Katie,

Well, formerly “dear Katie.” I really botched that one up, didn’t I? Are you surprised that I’m ready to admit it now? Well, I don’t blame you. I finally admitted to myself what I’d done, so now I can admit it to you.

You introduced us, do you remember that? You handed me her small soft hand and watched, smiling, as I shook it. I felt like I was cheating, then, holding her hand and smiling at her, even if I didn’t feel that way later, when I was holding more than that.

It wasn’t as though I set out to hurt you. I wasn’t trying that at all. Even now I think I might have been some sort of a pawn in a game you two were playing with each other. Maybe you don’t even know what game you were playing, but later, before you found it, it seemed obvious in your voice. Something about your tone would change when you talked about Megan, something in your eyes glazed over. It gave me the chills, Katie, still does. But it doesn’t for a moment excuse what I did. I didn’t set out to hurt you.

She pursued me when you weren’t around. She came over almost every day, bringing me simple things like cookies she said she’d baked too many of. I only invited her in because she was your friend, Kate, she said they were for you. But after she’d set them down, help herself to one of them, she’d want to sit and talk with me. How could I refuse? You know me…I’m a good host, if not a good boyfriend. She’d smile at me with a twinkle in her eye that could never be described as innocent, and she would seduce me with words and chocolate.

I wasn’t a victim, Katie, I know that. I’m not trying to excuse my actions, I want you to understand that, too. I’m just telling you what I feel about it…I already know what you feel about it, and my apology will come later in this letter I promise. Just…to get there…I have to go through it all, do you understand? Please don’t rip this up until you’ve reached the end.

Megan was nothing like you. That wasn’t better, it was just different. She was like a stalking tigress, after her prey, that prey being me. You were everything to me, in bed, in life, in heart, everywhere. I would never have given up what we had. Something in me, some instinct, told me to shut this woman out, to forget her, to go straight to you and confess even the slightest impure thought towards your friend. But instead I kept letting her in, kept eating the sweets she offered me, kept teasing back and forth while you were at work. I shouldn’t have, Katie, I really shouldn’t have, but I did.

It was an afternoon after we had argued, some stupid spat about this or that. I don’t even remember. Something so minor that it’s not even in my memory anymore. How ironic is that, Katie, that I can’t even remember my own excuse? I know there’s no reason to turn to another for comfort, and even though there was a phase where I blamed you for my actions, I’m past it, and now I know it was stupid. We’d argued, you and I, and Megan came over as usual that afternoon. She had on this dress, Katie, this dress that you would never have worn. You are too tasteful, you are too demure. I love that about you, Kate, but just looking at that dress made me angry. I told Megan about our fight, told her you would never wear that dress, and Megan giggled like a stupid silly schoolgirl and asked why you wouldn’t wear it.

Joking back and forth. We just laughed about stupid things, and Megan kept teasing about the dress, calling attention back to its too short hemline, its too low neck. My eyes started wandering away from the fabric and towards the flesh, something that the dress was designed to cause me to do. On one level I realized it was happening, but on another I was just turned off as a human, and turned on as a man. That hem was rising further up her legs and when I woke up out of my daze, she was in my lap, straddling me, her full lips pressed down on mine in a kiss I cannot describe.

Katie, I know it hurt you. I know it still must hurt you. I kissed her, I did more than kiss her. I didn’t just sit back and let her kiss me, and I didn’t push her off. Either way, I still would have lost you, because my mind had wandered far from the place where it belonged, and had found its way into Megan’s grasp.

She kissed with the experience of a hundred women, a slutty kiss that sparked something akin to arousal and also akin to disgust. But I didn’t stop her. I sat still as her tongue worked its magic in my mouth, licking the insides of my oral cavity, tasting my breath until I was panting for her. When she sucked on my mouth, Kate, it was a whole new world. Not a better one, just different.

Different. I think that the whole reason I was excited was for a difference. We were used to each other, you and I. As much as I love you, we were used to each other. I didn’t need a change, I loved your familiar body beside mine, but the part of me that is so animalistic, so instinctively male, was so turned on by the difference in her body, the difference in her mouth, the difference and hunger in that kiss, that I totally turned out the part of my mind that belonged to you. It took leave of me, wandered away, and for the ten minutes that that kiss lasted, I was Megan’s, and only Megan’s.

Her hands worked magic on my body, and indeed, they needed to. I was paralyzed, under her spell, completely incapable of doing anything to stop her. On one level I didn’t even want to. I can admit that now. She took off my clothes as if she had done it a million times. Her eyes didn’t even glance at my body, went straight to my cock. It was a chilling thought to me that she didn’t even need to see my face. Her eyes were closed when she lowered herself down onto my throbbing staff, closed when she lifted herself up by the strong muscles in her legs, and still closed when her open mouth sought mine and violated me again.

I was hardly even an active participant, merely submitting to her bodies needs as she rode me on the couch, our couch, the couch that you had picked out and that we had paid for together. Our couch, now mine and Megan’s nest for fucking. It really was fucking, too, no idle lovemaking or playful sex. No, just hard, hot, fucking, as she used my body, used my tool, thrust herself up and down slickly, moaning through her lips and straight into my body.

She came. I didn’t. That one last shred of dignity I kept. Now I almost wish I had cum, just so that losing you would have been for something. Instead, it wasn’t for shit. Her pale little body, that experienced piece of work, clenched around me and shuddered as she came. When she was done, she pulled herself off of me without ceremony, slipped her dress back around her legs and her panties back up to her waist, and she left. She smiled at me before she went, winked once, and slipped away without a word. Shocked, I didn’t know what to think.

I shouldn’t have hidden the fact from you. I shouldn’t have left it untold for so long. I should have confessed right away, have admitted what I’d done. Even if it hadn’t kept you with me, at least I wouldn’t have been a liar and a deceitful bastard…but I didn’t tell you. Somewhere inside me I thought that maybe, just maybe, you would never ever find out about your friend and me. You and I sat on that couch together, you and I made love, you and I kissed, and the only thing on my mind was what a great wrong I’d done you. I was almost relieved when Megan told you everything, when you came home with that angry look in your eyes, when you demanded that I leave, and when I did.

I’m so sorry, Katie.

Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Not angry, like I left you, not sad, as I knew you’d be when you found out, but happy, when we were best together. Every time I close my eyes I can feel you against me, holding me tight, whispering into my ear that you love me. Every time I drift to sleep I dream of you, and every time I wake up I feel like crying over the loss of something so special. We could have made it, you and me…if I’d only been honest with you and myself, instead of lying at every turn.

I love you, Katie, and I hope you can find it in your heart not to forgive me, not to understand me, but to know that it wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t driven away, as I told you on the phone, I wasn’t wronged, I wasn’t a victim. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.

-Luke