he was more than an AP to me

Your pain reminds me of the pain I felt when I broke up with the only AP I ever fell in love with ... I wrote a poem about it ...

She did not have a good heart. She could be petty, vindictive; She took pride in the pain she could inflict On those that hurt her. She inflicted it several times On people that I loved, Hurting me in the process. She spewed her venom like buckshot From a sawed-off shotgun, Aimed when it left the barrel, But spreading into a pattern Wider than originally intended. She hurt others without compunction or concern.

But . . .

I will never forget When I first saw her, Bare-legged and beautiful, Languid on that warm midafternoon, Spring humidity hanging heavy in the air, Getting out of her car in a short black dress. Her face then coming into view, My Apollonia, Brown hair brushed casually over The corner of her forehead, Walking towards me With a swing of her hips, Leaning back into me, Glancing back over her shoulder, Casually, An insouciant smile Softly parting her lips, Inviting the kiss, Then moaning, pushing back into me, When I gave it to her, Turning her body fully against mine . . . I was seized by an irresistible connection I’d never felt before. Like grabbing onto a live high-voltage line, I could not let go - even if I wanted to, And I did not. . . The bad girl and the dirty girl, Mixed with the innocent girl, Was a combination That I was, and am, simply Unable to resist.

. . . . . . .

The pain and destruction seeded At that first meeting Still reverberate with consequences Through the ones that I love, Having given them wounds that have healed But left scars. But they have forgiven me For that four-year long detour, long ago ended, Into insanity.

. . . . . . . . .

Yet . . . I still inexorably struggle To find some connection to her, However slight, To alleviate the sharp pain That comes when the cacophony of life, Plucking a chord of my memory, Plays a note That reminds me of her.

/r/adultery Thread