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Who am I?
I’m the man you wish he was. The one you always thought you’d end up with. The one who gives you what you need.
I’m the man you tell him not to worry about. “He’s just a friend,” you tell him as you check your hair in the mirror. Even you know it wasn’t very convincing, but he doesn’t need to know about that little black thong you’re wearing for me.
I’m the man that consumes your thoughts when you’re with him. The one you can’t seem to stop thinking about.
“Hey, do you have a moment to talk?” He texts you, “I had a rough day.” Three dots on his screen, then… nothing. An hour passes. “Sorry,” you finally text back. “He just left. I’m exhausted, can it wait until tomorrow?”
I’m the man he can’t escape, the shadow he can’t get out from under.
You open the door slowly, trying to be quiet. It’s an hour later than you said you’d be home. He’s waiting on the couch. You walk over to him, sitting next to him, pulling out your phone to show him pictures of what we just did.
I’m the man every man wants to be. The strong presence who takes all the attention just by existing.
He sits on the stained armchair in the cheap motel room, naked and dazed. The sun will be rising soon. He needs to sleep, but he just can’t keep his eyes off us as you moan out my name. When is the last time you talked to him like that?
I am the strain in the relationship. The other man. The temptation that tests your strength. I am the bull.
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- 3 months ago
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