It happened by accident. Really. We were introduced to each other by a mutual friend.
We had nothing in common it seemed, but we really loved spending time together. There was just that connection, you know?
I promised myself it would only be that one time.
But when I got home I couldn’t stop thinking about that time. I would smile surreptitiously lest someone become curious about my newfound zest for life. It was hard to resist telling everyone, but I’m married. Happily.
Then the next day, well, it happened again. We just fit. Maybe it’s the way I’m held. I don’t know how else to explain it. I feel strong and powerful when we’re together. Like I can do anything I put my mind to. My imagination reels at the possibilities.
But today I am alone. And a little sad. It’s all I can do to resist going back. I’ll go tomorrow. We’ll be together again. It’s just too much, too hard. My energy is sluggish, I’m starting to doubt myself. Yes, I must go back.
Not even my husband can stop me.
His birth name is Concept 2 Rowing Machine, but I call him Rowan. He is both challenging and fun. We love to play together. We lose all track of time (fortunately there’s an attachment for that). And each time I go back I fall in love a little more.
With Rowan of course, but also with myself.