Once a cheater …

I always wondered what it would feel like to cheat. Is the thought of being caught as exhilarating as one says? Would one be so invested in this other relationship that it really wouldn’t matter should ones indiscretion come to light ? How could someone ever cheat worry ALL. THE. TIME.?

I now have my answers.

I never thought I could be one to cheat. I don’t think I can lie that well – but, apparently one does not have to be able to lie: well, in my case I don’t.

When I first cheated I was in a bad spot and needed help. I wanted nothing more to fix things but as stresses mounted I was put in a position where I felt compelled to rely on another.  Completely unavailable to me, at one of my weakest points, I left – hand in hand – lead away, not only by my lust, but the volatility of our relationship which brought us to this crossroad. I push buttons, we’d push and pull, then sooner or later one of us would end up overheated before turning our back on the other, moving our separate ways. Occasionally we’ve found our way back to each other, but it’s not the same as it once was. That lust is gone. That strong sense of desire; gone.

Before I cheated, I was certain we would work things out. I was certain it was a phase and we would once again, find our way back to each other. Now? Things are different. The attention I get elsewhere is undeniable. The attention to detail, the precision of our movements; together as one. As cliche as it sounds: we were made for each other. Being together – as one – is magical and perfect. It’s everything it should be.

I just don’t know how to tell my beloved that it’s over. I’ve found another and I am moving on. I just don’t know what else I can do. There is nothing left. There’s nothing that binds us as it once had.

How do I tell my beloved Bissell I am leaving for a Dyson?

Okay, so I’m not REALLY leaving. I’m just dreaming of leaving.

I borrowed my step-mom’s vacuum cleaner; her Dyson, while we were moving and can I just tell you I thought I would love them before because – well, who wouldn’t? Shiny, pretty and they are said to have amazing suction, right? But they come in purple!? Purple, people.

I am planning my escape to be with this wondrous beauty. I am hoping to let my Bissell down gently, but I just haven’t found the words. It’s been so faithful over the past few years that I can’t bring myself to throw it to the side of the road, wiping my hands as I turn my back on it.

But dude? DYSON.

Or….

A violent death could make my dreams a little more conceivable. Maybe a fall down the stairs? An unfortunate meeting with a pool wet spot – I could tell Mike: “Well, I didn’t know it wasn’t able to suck up liquids” and shrug as I slyly disguise my grin with a shoulder shrug and a slight toss of my hair.

Or I could be smart and ask him right after sex. That always wins.

Regardless. I have a new mission.

A mission which I assume will take many months of planning to execute just so.

A mission that will have to be coordinated to the very last detail so not to upset the other appliances or my husband.

After all, it would be dreadful if they were to stage a coup; revoke my right to cook boil water, have clean clothes or marvel at their beauty as I admire myself in their reflection their lustrous shine.

They all deserve their time to be shiny, right?

In time my friend. In time.

You will be mine. You will be mine.

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Tagged as: appliance porn, I am wanty