A Wifey for the Bad Boy(220)

I sent a few messages, although when it came to sending a message I didn't know what to say and I hoped that it was well-received. I saw the number tick up on the people who had viewed my profile. I clicked on that, but again it was mostly men, wit only a few women interspersed in between, a couple of whom were people I had just sent messages too. I hoped that they would reply, but none came, and I went back over them, trying to see where I had went wrong. It was an impossible task however, for it was impossible to know what was going through their heads. And I was sad because it seemed like I would only get one shot at talking to them and if the initial message didn't catch their attention then there would be no more chances afterwards.

I tried to keep my messages light and breezy but interesting, although it was hard to keep them unique and they started sounding like I was typing the same thing to everyone. The search pages went on for ages, all filled with possibility as anything could have happened with anyone, although the possibilities were closed when they actually read my message, for then they would either reply or not. But I was idly scrolling through when a picture caught my attention. I went back and stared closely at the screen, trying to make sure that it was who I thought it was, and then I sat back in disbelief for it was a blast from the past. I had just come across another ex, Shannon.





Chapter 5

Shannon had been an intense summer fling at a time in my life when I had been searching for a meaning. I had been in my early twenties and had just ended a serious relationship with someone else when I was reading in the park one day, and Shannon had walked up to me. She had long red hair and her skin was covered in freckles, and when she smiled the world seemed to get a little brighter. She sat beside me and although we had never met before she spoke to me as though I was an old friend, and this was one of the qualities that I had most admired about her. We spoke about the book I was reading and then the conversation turned to other matters. I found that I could tell her anything, and I was soon giving her all the secrets that I held close to my heart.

At first we were just friends because she had such an ethereal quality around her, and sometimes I wasn't even sure if she was real. I could well have imagined her. We spent a lot of time together and soon we weren't just friends but lovers, exploring each other’s bodies with the same excitement as we spoke about Sartre and Nietzsche, relishing every moment we had. We were compatible both in an intellectual sense and physically, and whenever she spoke it was like she had taken the words right out of my mouth.

Yet somehow I had known that whatever love affair we had would only be fleeting. She spoke of love as something that was alive, and her emotions took her to different places. She wasn't gay, and spoke without shame about her affairs with men and woman, and somehow I knew that at some point she would feel the need to explore something else. It hadn't ended like I expected though. One day she came to me in tears and told me that she had been accepted for a job in South America. I hadn't even known she had applied, and she told me that she had done it so long ago that it had been forgotten, but there had been a delay and they had only just gotten back to her. I think she wanted me to tell her to stay, and maybe I should have, but I couldn't. It was too good an opportunity to miss and I was too nice to tell her to stay, to be selfish, because I still felt that at some point we would end and she would always hate me for being the reason that she never got to go to South America. I didn't want that burden.

That night we made love for the last time and we hugged each other so tightly neither of us wanted to let go. Our kisses were damp as our weeping made our cheeks soaked with tears, and the salty taste lingered on my lips for days after. We decided not to keep in touch because we didn't want the pain. We were still young. We had our whole lives ahead of us and we wanted to keep each other as a fond memory. It ended so easily it was almost like it had never happened, and my life went on after her, never thinking that I would see her again.

So when I saw her on the dating site I had to do a double take, because as far as I knew she was still in South America. I couldn't resist the temptation and I clicked on her profile, and read about how she had only just returned from living in South America during the past few months, and that she was looking to make new friends and build up her social circle, because she was getting over a relationship and wasn't ready to get into anything else so soon. Her pictures were all of her smiling and having fun, except one that was taken as she gaze over a canyon, with the sunset in the background. It framed her body in a way that I thought was beautiful, and suddenly all the memories of her lithe body underneath mine came flooding back. I remembered how she would nibble on my ear and drag her tongue down my spine and all the other little tricks that she used to use, and my body started to tingle.