Fire

It scared her, how much she craved for his attention. For years, she had shrugged off his advances – always putting up a mock agitated front to all the flirting. She didn’t deny that she liked him. He knew it too. And they often talked about the strange bond they shared. Having never met, they had managed to maintain this ‘relationship’ for over a decade. Mindless conversations, harmless flirting... long hours spent talking about nothing and everything. It wasn’t as rosy as it sounds though. They had had their fall outs, lost touch for long spells of time. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, they ended up reconnecting; ended up reminiscing the good bits, happily forgetting the jarring reality.

One thing he made clear from the start: he was a married man. And no amount of flirting threatened his commitment to his family. She appreciated this. Perhaps even respected him for it. But it was hard to keep track of her own feelings. He had a way with words. He had a way of making her feel special. And invariably, she felt guilty. In her head, what she was doing was not right. Her values warned her against it. Yet she was drawn to him again and again.

The scene was different now. Many years had passed, and having been through her share of relationships, a little more immune to his charm. But his messages still made her smile. He still had an inexplicable hold over her. She flirted back without hesitation. Fully aware that this is what they would be, for as long as they remained in touch. And even if they stopped talking, the world would not come to an end.

This went on for a couple of years. They talked on and off. Sometimes about their partners, sometimes about each other. His messages sometimes took a sexual overtone. She hated it when he spoke to her like that. Not because she didn’t like him. But she felt angry. Angry that it affected her; that she wondered whether he meant any of it. Her rational self knew he probably said that to a dozen other girls. And even if he didn’t, how did it matter? She scolded herself for paying heed to his nonsense. But despite everything, she couldn’t break away from him. 

As long as she was able to label this as light-hearted fooling around, things were OK. But it didn’t stay that way. It happened around the same time that her relationship with her partner had hit a rocky patch. A break-up followed cruel words and angry tears.

She was not happy. And she would not let anyone know. Perhaps out of vulnerability, perhaps as a result of years of repressed feelings... for reasons she did not want to dwell on, she found herself turning to him more. The romance and warmth she found missing from her life, she looked for it in their interactions. A part of her warned that she was setting herself up for heartbreak all over again. She knew there were limits. She had no intention of being the 'other woman'. She knew she was playing with fire. It scared her, but it also lit up something within her. An excitement that was addictive. She recognized that, for the first time, she wanted more.