Ode to a former lover
“My desire was stronger and more insistent than my guilt. I was no longer able to resist you.” Thus a relationship started that would scale the erotic heights. So what went wrong in the end?
Anne Sexton, 04 Jun 2009
The first time I saw you, you were walking down the street. You were beautiful, the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I knew that you were mine, even though you were holding hands with another girl.
The second time I saw you, you were sitting in the sun. The girl was at your side. I could tell from the way she laughed at your jokes that she loved you. I sat opposite you with my back turned to stop myself from staring.
Your girlfriend thought she knew me. She walked over.
“Aren’t you…?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
She dragged you over to introduce you, not knowing what she’d done.
Your girlfriend liked me. She offered her friendship unselfconsciously and I accepted it with mixed feelings. It was impossible not to admire her; it was impossible not to want you.
I kept my feelings secret as our friendship was cemented. I saw you hand in hand at parties, in the pub, walking around the city. I flirted with other men and tried to forget about you. I entertained you both with stories from the sexual battlefield while you laughed, happy to have found each other.
I wanted a new apartment. You suggested I move in with your girlfriend. She needed another person to help out with the rent.
She made a cake to celebrate the day I dragged the last of my possessions into the spare bedroom. “It so much nicer to share with friends than strangers,” she said.
On a summer’s day I came home to find your girlfriend crying in the kitchen.
“It’s over,” she told me while I made her a cup of tea. “It wasn’t working.”
The next time I saw you, you were indulging in the distractions of booze and casual sex. There was one girl and the next and then another.
“I forgot how much fun it is being single,” you laughed and offered me a drink.
One night a few months later we spent the evening chatting in a dark corner at the back of a nightclub. You leaned over and touched my face. I turned to you. My desire was stronger and more insistent than my guilt. I was no longer able to resist you.
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