For better, for worse

Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I arranged an assignation with another.

I know it’s wrong. I know it’s disloyal. I know that I should have resisted temptation. But I’m only human and I have needs. Needs that, for one reason or another, are not being met. Needs that I have tried to suppress. Needs that I have tried to meet myself, only to find the experience a pale imitation of the real thing. So yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I succumbed to temptation and reached for my phone.

I’ve been aware of him for some time.  Had we met earlier, I feel that we could have been good together, but why would I risk a fine relationship on the off chance of something better?

Recently though, running and work have made things difficult, and I have found myself thinking about him more and more.  It crept up so gradually.  A missed opportunity here, a rain check there and before you know it, the cracks start to appear.  Should I have been more patient, tried harder to make it work?  Should I have skipped the odd run to make time for us?  At the time, I thought not, I thought what we had was indestructible.

But that was before I made the call.  Before I arranged the meeting.  I’m now wracked with guilt and worry.  If the assignation goes well, will I be able to resist straying again in the future?  If it disappoints, will I have jeopardised a good, nay great, thing for nothing?

Or will my sports massage therapist understand why, in the face of seemingly insurmountable diary clashes, I have made an appointment with another?

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