Men who cheat.

Have you gone on vacation? Without a book, your phone or any other means of entertainment? Without even the grace of a language you understand, to talk to people with? You kick your heels all day and make silent jokes and no one even hears them. And you curse your mind, because in this god forsaken land, there is no one who gets you. And then one day, someone does. You say a great, almighty, from the heart, hallelujah because you for sure needed that person. That person came just in the nick of time and now you have someone. You know what, you could even settle down in this place, because it’s ain’t so bad suddenly. You give up on your vacation and become a steady, earnest person with someone else to take care of, and bills to pay and well, a life to lead. But on the way, while doing all of this, your island paradise has changed to a bustling tourist hot spot, with young ones in bathing suits and families with rubber duckies and young men with expectations and young women. Young women. They come in droves. You’re a native now, and they come to you to ask you what sights are good to see. They find you exotic, you’ve taken on the island’s sheen now and you speak the language and well, you know more than they do. They find you nice to talk to, and you can forgive their indiscretions and on the whole, resist their charms. But with so many strangers to talk to, you find yourself alone once more. That person who used to get you, also has other people to talk to now, and you no longer say a silent prayer because we don’t give thanks for what we own.

So you start looking once more. For that eureka moment.  Oh we call it lust and a hundred other demeaning words, but it’s not that. It’s just a person’s joy at being discovered. We love to be picked up, singled out, made much of, told we are special – for any reason whatsoever. So we look for people to find us. And they do. At least one does. Thus, the deed is done.

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