I never thought I’d be the type to look for something online, but when your marriage feels more like a business deal than a partnership, you start to wonder what’s missing. My wife is a total workaholic. That spark we used to have? Yeah, it’s basically gone—snuffed out by long hours and endless Zoom calls. She’s always somewhere else, either lost in her work or just mentally checked out. I can’t even remember the last time she really saw me. I hung in there for years, convincing myself that this was just how life goes. But honestly? The loneliness is crushing.

So, I went online. I found someone—someone who made me feel like me again. At first, it was all pretty innocent. Just chatting, late-night messages that quickly turned into something deeper. She was different. She actually listened, cared about what I had to say. It felt like she pulled me out of this fog I’d been stuck in for so long. For the first time in ages, I felt desired, alive, connected. We shared everything—our hopes, our disappointments, even those things we’re too scared to admit to anyone else. And for a while, I thought maybe I hadn’t completely lost the ability to feel passion and closeness.

But then things took a turn. We started exchanging more suggestive messages—stuff we’d never say to each other in person, but somehow it felt safe to whisper those things in the dark corners of the internet. Then came the photos—NSFW, the kind you only send when you really trust someone. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking at the same time. She sent me things that made my heart race, images I hadn’t imagined seeing in years. I sent her mine too. I felt completely exposed, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t felt with anyone in forever. It was raw and real, like I was truly alive again, seen in a way I hadn’t been in so long.

But along with that excitement came fear. What if someone found out? What if she wasn’t who I thought she was? I’d shared parts of myself—both physically and emotionally—that I had locked away for so long. I had given her my trust, believing in this connection we’d built. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, but the fear was always lurking. I had trusted her with pieces of me that could ruin everything if they ever got out.

Still, I went for it. I gave her my trust, my secrets, my desire—because I needed to feel something real. I needed to believe there was someone out there who could handle all of me, who wanted me just as I was. And for a while, she was that person. Until she wasn’t. When she ghosted me, it felt like a punch in the gut. I had opened up to her, and just like that, she vanished, leaving me feeling more alone than ever. Rejected not just by my wife, but by the one person who had reignited a spark in me.

The kiss—it’s a theory I’ve held onto for years, the idea that it’s the gateway to everything I crave. But after feeling that intimacy and sharing our deepest, most hidden desires, I realize it’s more than just a kiss I’m after. It’s that connection where you can be completely open, not just physically but emotionally too. It’s about admitting those things we’re too scared to say out loud, even to ourselves. And I crave that. I want a relationship where we can have it all. Where we can have our cake and eat it too—both of us.

We can keep things light, have fun conversations, laugh, share stories like friends do. But beneath all of that, I need someone I can trust with the parts of me I’ve always kept hidden. Someone I can tell my darkest, most twisted desires to—the things I’d never dare share with my best friend or anyone else. Because that’s where real connection happens, in those secret spaces where our true selves live. That’s what I want—what I need. To be with someone who can handle every side of me and isn’t afraid to share her own desires in return.

So here I am, ready to dive back into the unknown, hoping to find that spark again. Because I believe it’s out there. I believe there’s someone who wants to feel that fire just as much as I do. Someone who gets that longing and is willing to embrace it with me.