He was a Hawaiin Father of three

and he was beautiful. It was also the absolute shortest love affair I have ever had. I owe it all to Michael Jackson, or his death anyways. We (Mr. Hawaii and I) were arguing back and forth on facebook about Mr. Jackson's legacy. I happened to have Mr. Hawaii's cell number because he had very randomly texted me a few days before. When the debate became too heated for FB, I decided to text him.

The debate died quickly as he revealed, "I had the hots for ya" fifteen years ago. I was oblivious to this then. I didn't really even think he knew my name. Sigh. And so the flirting continued and grew in intensity. He was impressed with my uninhibited-ness (totally made that word up). I knew I was turning him on and I loved it. Both being married, we clarified that this was just flirting and and an innocent outlet, and we both meant it. We pushed the envelope a few times but never quite got to full "cybering" (what do you call it if it is through texts versus online?). No joke there were probably 200 texts exchanged that day.

The next morning I was anxious to contact him again. The day before was the best I had felt in a while. I of course had now thoroughly scoured his FB page and photos. I avoided any with his beautiful wife in them as I do know her and she is as sweet as pie. Don't get me wrong, I had no visions of destroying a happy home, but guilt never the less abound. We talked some that day, it was nice.

I knew that he would be working a midnight shift that weekend and looked forward to the opportunity to talk at length and discover more about him. At this point it was still pretty much purely sexual. Midnight came and I hoped to hear from him and did not. I caved and texted him first, "Hey".

He was surprised to hear from me. Was he too not hoping for the chance to talk? We exchanged niceties when he mentioned something about being frustrated. I inquired. He expressed his desire to "fuck (me) like Zorro" but was frustrated because he knew he couldn't. Talk about instant wetness. A few more exchanges and I revealed that Big Papa had cheated on my in a most crushing way last year. Mr. Hawaii was generally sorry for my torture. Then suggested I be so mad that I send nipple pictures. Attempting to take things slow, I declined. Suddenly the beautiful man asked me what my four "lonely sounds" were. I was going to ask him what he meant or why he asked, but for some reason, I was certain I knew exactly what he meant. My response:

1. The sound you hear when you are under water (one of my favorites)
2. The sound you hear when you turn your ignition off, but linger in your car a few minutes
3. My "lonely" playlist on my MP3 player (I actually have one)
4. Crickets at night

I clarified that while crickets at night was a sound I categorized as lonely, I much rather preferred to enjoy them with someone on a dark summer night.

Mr. Beautiful Hawaii gave his:

1. Wolves howling at the moon
2. How is it possible I don't remember number two?? Put down the bowl Mrs.258
3. The sound a tractor trailer makes barreling down the freeway
4. A train or train whistle

Then he began with a lovely view. "Picture this, I'm laying here under the bright moon..." and then he stopped and added "I'm too old for this".

No please don't stop Mr. Beautiful. Don't you know that I want to lay in that field under that bright moon and rest my head upon your chest with my hair surrounding you? What else can I know about you? What are your happy sounds? What scares you? What usually runs through your head before you nod off?

Shit. He was stirring something in me. This was not the plan. Just fun sex talk, right? Why do I want to lay with him so badly?

The phone rings. It's him. It's Mr. beautiful. I answer nervously. We talk but I can sense how nervous he is. I run my mouth about Big Papa's infidelity, not what I needed to talk about at that moment (why did I do that??). I tell Mr. beautiful that he sounds nervous. He says he is not nervous about talking with me, he is nervous about sleeping with me. My stomach drops (and I get wetter). Knowing my boundaries, I tell him I would never let that happen. He says that makes him nervous too. Blood rushes to all sorts of great places in my body.

Soon he ends the conversation. I'm not really sure why. We could talk night if we wanted to. He must not want too.

Fast-forward to today. Three nights after the phone call and 5 (or 6?) days since the texting began. He has clarified that he wants to keep things strictly platonic because he is married and because he has three precious children. I understand and honestly agree. It is the right thing for sure. I know it is the right thing because since Big Pappa has cheated, I have had three separate men offer to help me pay him back (fuck me). I enjoyed flirting with these men to a point, but the interest wasn't there and I knew I would never break my vows that I took in front of my family, friends, and God. But you know what? I really didn't even want too. And any communication I had with those three men were never more than flirting (on my part anyways). I never thought about them if I wasn't speaking with them. I never once wondered what it would be like to actually be with them. With Mr. Beautiful on the other hand, I felt this incredibly odd, strong, almost instant connection to. I will never know if his decision to back-off was because he sensed my connection and wanted to get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible, or if he sensed it and felt it too.

Either way, he is an incredible man.

PostScript: This has of course, made me look at my marriage. I worry that I don't feel that connection with Big Papa anymore and how long it has been since I have. Does he feel it with me? Ever? Can we get it back? I need to try.