Fidelity; in Subtitle

She stepped into the room and the environment changed. It became an atmosphere charged with accusation and post committal doubt. The two tense bodies occupied an entire hallway, the entire adjoining apartment. They are filled with a restlessness that permeates the wall and dull simple furniture. Whatever drew them together in this house, as they both stand in stupor and over stimulated emotional groping, it was a force sublime enough to pull them here and to lock their eyes in a somber gaze. Aside from the drama that transfixed their anxious situations, this lone active magnetism spared them.

They studied things in one another face, as only long time friends could. Acquaintances that have bathed together and brushed tears from each others cheeks. It was a mixture of blood, assorted veins of empathy. Yet, this was a dance, and a composition.

It may not always be the path to healing to discard from your life the very person that hurt you.

She cheated on him… He is trying to keep hating her for it, and she is trying to keep alive. That is the inspiration for this genre, this chapter called trepidation. The details are strong in each others mind, and motives are slick and refined to the point as to where each party is sure to why there should be such a wall of animosity. Its an unspoken mutual decision that the relationship has faltered to a position that is akin to chaotic. And why do they look, do they give the gift of acknowledgement to one another, why open the air to a possible word or insult?

Is it within human nature to be drawn completely through the middle in a situation such as this, to be split upon the character of emotional affairs in regards to a loved one, that you can simultaneously classify a single person as the object and the catalyst for two very separate emotions? Can it be said that a human being can be a muse and a suicide, a nepenthe and a wretch, and thus drive us to untimely self destructive struggling?

Would it be fair to say that the convoluted state of human affairs leaves so much to interpretation, so many moods to be deciphered that it may be impossible to suppress the urge to love the most unfaithful lover, simply because of a delicate memory rescinded and touched upon by painful recollection into the better parts of your lives together. To make love even after they lie with another, out of the fragmented perceptions of another persons psyche and misplaced motivations. You can even cheat on her, plummet your sexuality upon another, empower your sensual nature, and with love you care only to cheat on her with herself.

You could be unfaithful to your relationship, to objectify her as a loving sexual object and to pour your contemptuous eroticism into her waiting lusting hands. To touch her breast with yourself in mind, her textures to arouse you, lose yourself in her. Every moist thought and damp touch, her body new and fresh with a lust aroused by paranoia and reorganizing love.

Can you love a person and still be driven by hormonal caveat, out of reasonable passion and into a hedonistic outlet into self serving emotional gluttony, this much is true, spelled out by the scented history of copulation. And why would the cunt operate any differently than a hungry mouth?

To her, her eyes and quivering lips tell a much different story about the world, about an affair and a love gone bitter. Foremost it is a confusion that has permeated her world, left her reeling and dropping into harrowing circumstances. For her it was a momentary lapse, and even an indulgence into a promising path. It was a momentary drop from faithfulness to peruse an emotional and sexual road, that promised and begged to fulfill her, even to nourish her being and elevate her esteem, revoking a self loathing she has begun to foster through stages of fighting with her partner.

In ways, she was convinced it had less to do with him than it did with her understanding her world and her freedoms, even her options as the present themselves in her life, those that beg for a solution more comprehensive that wondering forever if she has invented love in her mind or if it is just a complacence that keeps her at the heel of another. Perhaps it was an opening to allow her to be happy again, to see if that person, an intriguing friend might be the grand mover to open her eyes to a new and not so distance sunrise.

They spent the day in courting bliss, shopping and holding hands, kissing on the couch with a sad or funny movie in the background. They could talk about the most intimate of things, seeing that their relationship was not superficially bound up in trust issues and fears of driving a partner away. It was not convoluted in secondary meanings and cheap sweet voices designed to calm a persons feelings long enough to work out an issue that grates on a partners nerves. So they spoke the things that brave misunderstandings have kept her from uttering to him, afraid that he wouldn't hear, care or listen.

All of this opened her to him, to someone who she could believe loved her in a genuine way, or even without would nourish her with this feeling for a long and important moment. So, an evening spent lip to lip aggressed her drive, and his tongue to hers, his fingers on her nipple, this all together drove her to absolute the act, to push forth with her yearning to express and be heard, to fight out with this meaning that was to be born from he heart.

This desire, this unbearable force mingled with his yearning, his soft face and thin body, it all came together as she slipped out of her clothes and thrust to him her delicate shape, her naked chest to his and another slow touching kiss and they were together. Pushing strong for every quiver and gasp, two soft legs caressing the aft of his thighs as the night passed away uneventful for the rest of the world left in tow.

It was fair play sex, and for them it was beautiful. It was every right word and a coupling of bodies who’s magnetism was fixed in righteous polarity. Timing was the only distraction wrestling them away from fitting together in a gracious physical harmony, and as her eyes bled clean of this consummation she knew the world she would be putting them both in, the men she cared for, the men who she fastidiously prayed would give her the grace and understanding to take what she needed...