My Biggest Secret

He'll be home soon you know.

"All right, I suppose we can talk tomorrow."

I hung up the phone and continued to draw in my notebook with the knowledge that on the other end of the line was a person who had interest in me, wanted to know and maybe one day love me, and trust me, that was fine with me. Two and a half hours away from me but that was ok. The things I'd do for love.

A few minutes later my boyfriend walked through the door after a long hard afternoon of working in a factory that makes industrial strength conveyor belts. His boss had been giving him crap again, I could tell by the look on his face. It isn't fair to them, and I hate his boss. He's a real jerk.

He walked over and watched me as I played coy and continued to lie on the bed drawing. He poked me in the butt with his shoe and I looked up and smiled at him.

"Hi, honey."

He goes and takes a shower and while he does I glance warily at the phone wondering if he's going to call back again. Sometimes he does. I'd just have to let it ring I guess.

After his shower he comes back into the room and looks at me with a little smile on his face that's more of a scold sometimes. Did I do the silly, yet simple things he'd asked me to do before he left? No. But that didn't matter because he loved me to much to be angry with me. Yeah. I love him too. Once he expressed a deep want to go to sleep I jumped up, put my things away and let him lie down. We stayed up for a while and talked about the things that were still keeping us awake; finances, work, travel. Yet as I lay next to him I couldn't help but let my mind wander to another place; to where he was.

He was 6'2 with long curly hair and a face etched out of stone. He loved everything I did and was doing, and will do. I talk to him all the time, even make plans I can't always fulfill. What is it about him that gives me butterflies in my stomach, makes me wiggle with delight when I hear his sultry voice over the phone lines? We love to have phone sex, and I think it's cute when he orgasms.

Problems, problems, bills, work, birthdays, mother, father....is it what drives me? Is it what causes the crash? Four or five or seven or years later will I still be addicted to running from the things that cause me the most happiness and require the most work to endure? There isn't really any one to blame, or anything for that matter. I mean sure there are all sorts of things that can cause someone to feel like I do. Sometimes I guess I get a trapped, cold, unwanted feeling, like I'm useless to the world unless I'm making someone happy. Call it a weak will, stubborn mindset. It's as though a voice takes over inside that prepares me to be my namesake, the "confuser of men", as I leave one after another in the dust wondering what it is they did wrong. Why wasn't I happy? I was. Why wasn't I satisfied? I am. I was. I will be again. I'll think of reasons to go, excuses to fight and ways to make things more difficult until I get what I want, until I can have the voice on the other end of the line.

This is the behavior of teenagers and of unhappy marriages. Perhaps it's the same as some victims of similar situations. It's like I have to, no, NEED to know what it is that's drawing me towards this person. I listen to my heart over my head and boy does it ever get me into trouble.

My biggest secret...is that I am a cheater.