Group Dynamics Part II

He’s beautiful when he’s between my sheets, and then he leaves me. He walks away, out the door, down the street, to somewhere else. He’s going exactly anywhere else than where I am right now, and for all I know, she could be there waiting. I try not to think about it while I make the bed, shaking out the blankets that still bear the sweat of last night’s lust. And the words that he said, turning tricks in my mind, like was that love? Or is this just us, in our few fleeting moments, grasping on inside seconds, holding skin, moaning heavy. Is this just us and all the time we have together before he goes somewhere else. Is this all we have. Is this all we’ll ever have? While she has something else. While she has everything else, even if he’s out here, behind her back, getting sweaty with me, she still has him. Even when he’s in my arms, she still has him. Even when he’s inside me, she will always possess him. He might think of me for a moment, but she owns all his thoughts.
I sit on my bed, after he’s gone. I wonder if he’ll call me. I look at my phone, and I leave the house. Out to some bar. Out to some anywhere, which might be where he is, but I see her instead. I see her all the time, and I wonder if she sees me. For who I truly am. When I am naked in bed with her man.
I know that she knows, and I am a silly creature. I succumb to lust too easily, which is why I sit next to her in this bar with this drink in my hand. She knows that I am weak for flesh, not just his, but anybody’s. She knows that I am prey. So I sit there, with her, until the bar closes, and she looks at me. He has not showed up tonight, and he has not come up in conversation, which means that the anywhere where he is right now is not with either of us. And that is a dangerous idea.
I wait for her to look for him, because when she finds him, I will find him, too. But it’s after last call, and it’s too late now. We both know it’s too late now. So we’re supposed to split a cab home, but she comes inside for one last drink instead. Which was a bad idea. I should have known it was a bad idea. But it was her bad idea, she thought it up all herself. We don’t talk about him because we don’t have to, as she peels off clothes like candy wrappers. And she is all sweet on the inside. We don’t talk about him, because we are both thinking about him as she slips down to my thighs. We don’t talk about him, because we’re too busy fucking. And these sheets that were sticky with him from last night are now dripping with her, and I am the sordid beast who is coming between them, and coming, and coming, and coming some more.
And then she leaves me, too, in the same way that he leaves me every time. She walks the same route home that he does, into the same house where he lives. And I can feel them lying in bed together while I’m the way over here, trapped in this bedroom, without either of them for right now, and only the satisfaction of this emptiness. They have each other, but I think they deserve each other, because they are both beautiful and broken in their own way. And I am the lucky bitch that gets to come between them for just right now.