I was wearing the world’s most comfortable onesie and I really did not want to change. We had a bond. A warm, assuring intimacy built on years of trust, closeness and chemistry. And, as often happens with real love, dark forces try and creep in and threaten to tear you apart.
In our case, it was coffee. There was no coffee! The dark force decided to strike on the coldest morning of the year.
So, I did what any self-respecting woman in love would do. I lifted my game, taking the risk and going in the direction of my destiny. Showing the dark force who’s boss, I put on a long coat, Jackie O glasses, a baseball cap and I headed out.
I was also wearing sneakers because I told our cleaner I was going to the gym. She side-eyed me. I knew it! We had to keep our love a secret. Nobody could find out. There would be consequences. People were talking. I could see it in her eyes.
As far as I was concerned, our secret was still pretty safe. Safe under the beautiful vintage cover of my granny’s tweed coat.
Still acting like Madonna, and just like the lovers who err every now and then and risk getting caught, I had a serious case of the guilty conscience. It hit me hard.
Hot, sweaty, high from adrenaline and feeling the full pressure from “society”, I decided to do the “right” thing. It was painful but I had no choice but to break up with my onesie.
It wasn’t him, it was me. He didn’t deserve it.
It was either that, or my husband would get the text message telling him that our gym membership was about to be revoked because we had used it less than 3 times in one month. (Can you imagine our cleaner’s face then?)
…I still think about that onesie.
Especially during squats when I think I finally know what Adele meant when she said “sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead…”
© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016
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