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http://dkmarkwell.simplesite.com/
Connection at First Sight
He was dead. There were five, and she had already been on dates with two. She was married to a man who, according to her was suffering from severe depression. Was there any truth in that or anything she shared, or was she a beautiful dream?
We had exchanged numbers and she was all set to meet number four. I was number five. Number four had cancelled, so she went with this option as she wanted a night out with company. She killed me, and yet I write. Heart still beating, but dead.
As if looking through a telescope, she was all the existed. My eyes fixed on her, her beauty was beyond compare. We laughed as I shared unfinished story to unfinished story. She felt I wasn’t interested until the question for a kiss came. Her hand was on his thigh so surely she was attracted. Three drinks in, a beautiful Indian dinner…sealed with a kiss…our first kiss…Lost in her world forever….
“See me tomorrow night?” she iterated with her feminine, ever soft voice.
“Of course”…for he knew she was the one…
Daytime
The arrow hadn’t pierced…as she exclaimed…”We will never fall in love. We will see other people….” and from there, a blur. What she said was a blur…A walk along the street…holding hands..I can’t remember what happened, but the laughs continued…We were connected in some kind of beautiful way, and I loved her…I couldn’t explain it…but I loved her…and she killed me….
“I will be leaving for Tindall tomorrow for weeks” she explained.
Thinking her to be joking, I laughed.
An invitation was then given to come back to her car. It was a warm’ish day, with the sun microwaving the car. I thought to myself…I hardly know this girl, but she has kidnapped my heart, and I think I love it, I thought.
As our tongues engulfed the other, we went from outside to in engaging in passionate touching in the back seat of her Corrolla. Oh the heat didn’t matter. We could be in an oven, and I wouldn’t care, as i had won the girl. Hours could have passed, and it would have been a blink. Her medium length brunette hair, radiant beauty and miraculous body had me in surrender.
She left and was off to Tindal, and I was left with my heart already given.
Married and Cheating
It had always occurred to me that if she was lying to her husband of many years, then she would lie to me. But she said she loved me. On the bed of the Langham hotel, and in tears…she loved me….she truly loved me…but she killed me….
The text message read…”I have spoken to the other man and I have decided to see only you”….and her husband. She would remain loyal to me, and not share any intimacy with her wedded man.
“Karen, I totally understand you are married, so I honestly don’t expect you to stop being with your husband”, I explained. She was gone for many weeks, and I thought I would use this chance to get my PhD done. I would travel to the shops, to carparks, the side of the street, and whatever it took to get that extra moment of talking to the most beautiful girl in the world.
If you could just take one small glimpse…you too would fall deeply…She had a heavenly figure, a graceful demeanour and an effervescent glow…She was devine…I missed her…nothing else mattered…I didn’t care about my PhD, my work, or anything else…She had become my everything…and she was married, and so was I….
Have I lost you? Surely, I have…There was no guilt as my marriage was over, yet I hadn’t ended it…but here I lay…heart smashed into a million pieces….she killed me…
Tindal
There will never be a more aggressive love story than that which would transpire while Karen was in Tindal for work.
The phone call to Darwin suggested that phone reception might be limited, and work. Would I go to visit? Airfares and accommodation would cost me thousands, but this girl was worth it. She is a one in a million girl. The girl that guys do go, as she would say, batshit over. Sure she may not have been perfect, but we just worked. A connection like no other.
I have never laughed so much, and so hard. She would call and reality would fade. Her voice was the sound of sweet tenderness…a nice red on a cold winter’s day. Her lips moving, a hypnotic trance that would envelop me forever.
The cooler winter’s night when alone, I sat in the car, as sexual lines of wet thoughts bounced backwards and forwards as the knock on the car window, so the policeman asks, “are you, okay sir?”.
Embarrassed and wet with anticipation…”um, yeah…fuck, what do I say…um…yes, um…just talking to my wife (what the heck?!)…oh it just flew out…is a long way away on duty”. As they left, another memory of our closeness emerged.
To be continued with daily entries here: http://dkmarkwell.simplesite.com/
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