A Question of Love

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I saw my lover, the ex-cop yesterday.  I told him in the beginning that I “liked his being”, but it’s true.  He was a cop, and like all cops had to see the worst of humanity for over 30 years of service. He has decided, simply, not to wallow in it and to try to be positive. It does me so much good to be with someone like that. (And the sex is fantastic). He cooks for me, and makes me eat in my current state of underweight.  He’s kind to me.  He listens. He talks.

The best part was the caresses in the morning.  Not even a prelude to sex this time, since I didn’t have time before work and I think we were both sexed to exhaustion. Just caresses. Touching each other, giving each other pleasure.

I whispered to myself, in my head, that I loved him as he caressed me. He was very adamant about me not falling in love with him in the beginning.  I don’t know if that’s because he really doesn’t want to be in love himself, if he doesn’t want some clingy woman around, or if he was worried about me leaving my husband for him.  I’m leaving my husband, sort of because  of him, but more the fact of a lover than the lover itself. I can’t stand lying.

But I’m not moving in with him, nor do I want much more than we already have. I’d like to do something outside of bed some day. Or theoretically, I think I do, but when I see him, all I want to do is get him into bed.

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