Desire

Infatuation first saw her at a housewarming party. Desire was sitting in the corner, calmly sipping a glass of white wine and observing the crowd. She wore faded jeans that hugged her elegant legs and a white silk blouse with the top two buttons undone. Infatuation could not but help notice the way the sun played on her skin, turning it pale gold. A warm flush crept through her, making her shiver.

"Who is she?", asked Infatuation of her husband.

"I don't know, except that you've got nothing to be jealous about. I'm told that she's a lesbian. A mind of her own. No fun at all." He grinned teasingly.

"Oh."

She kept her eyes on Desire, watching her gracefully put down her glass of wine and talk to some of the guests. A drop of wine rested upon her full lower lip, quickly tasted away by a flick of tongue. Large brown eyes surveyed the crowd, held Infatuation's gaze for a breathless moment, then roved on. Infatuation was not aware of her companion's departure for the bar; she was fascinated by Desire. She found that she wanted to touch that golden skin, feel that graceful body pressed against her own. Cheek pressed against Desire's cheek, breathing her sweet scent. She felt her body grow warm and languid at the thought.

Abruptly, she shook herself. "Am I actually attracted to another woman?" Her face drained white with shock, then red in mortification as she realized that Desire was looking in her direction again. Infatuation quickly turned around and determinedly sought out the location of her husband, refusing to acknowledge the passion pounding in her heart nor the knot in her gut screaming that something was not right. For the rest of the evening, she fiercely ignored the presence of Desire. She did not see Desire slowly move towards her throughout the evening until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hello. I don't believe we've met." Large dark eyes, catching a glint of the setting sun. The touch on her shoulder became the softest caress. Infatuation's breath caught in her throat. "Would you like to dance?"

Confident eyes gaze into confusion. A hint of passion within the confusion, quickly overwhelmed by fear.

"No. Please." Infatuation steps away. "Don't." Another step, then she turns and quickly walks away from Desire.

That night, Infatuation made love to her husband, almost forcefully. It did not occur to her to ask herself why, or what she was trying to prove.

"Hello again." The soft words floated down to Infatuation. She was sitting on the beach with her eyes closed, breathing in the wild scent of the ocean. This was her favorite spot - at the edge of the cliff looking down to the waves crashing upon the beach. There was a trail behind her that snaked along the edge of the cliff, but it was early and Infatuation did not expect to meet anyone.

She knew that voice.

A long moment, then she opened her eyes to a tentative smile. Desire stood there, elegance personified. A simple shirt tucked into khaki pants. Sandals on her feet. Morning sunlight weaving gold into her dark hair. The smell of spices and lemons wafted towards Infatuation as Desire sat down next to her.

Infatuation did not know what to do. She wanted to run away. She wanted to put her head on Desire's shoulder and be lost in her essence. She wanted to touch, hold, love. "This is ridiculous," she told herself. "I am in love with my husband. I can NOT be attarcted to another woman. I can handle this." Taking a deep breath, Infatuation looked up and met the eyes of Desire.

And saw her passion reflected in Desire's eyes.

They stared at each other for the longest time. Then Desire leaned forward and kissed Infatuation.

"What's on your mind, lady?", asked her husband as he playfully nuzzled Infatuation's neck. "You're awfully spacey these days."

"Mmm...not much. Your turn to make dinner, though." Infatuation smiled winningly at her husband. She held the smile until he grinned, then left for the kitchen. Then the smile faded.

Memories. Vivid memories of holding hands with Desire. Laughter, touches, caresses. Shivers as Desire kissed her fingertips. The easy companionship she felt. The scent of spices mingled with their lovemaking in Desire's bedroom. The taste of exquisite ecstasy.

A memory of Desire asking her to stay. They were sitting in the meadow, dining on a picnic lunch and each other's presence. Laughter in the air, slowly being replaced by serious silence. Then Desire asked Infatuation to stay with her. For always.

"I can't, " she had replied.

"Don't you love me?"

"Yes, but I love my husband, too."

"But not like this."

A sigh. "No, not like this. But this is not...real. This is not real love..."

"Are you so sure? Why not?"

"Because it's not right. It's not proper."

"Look around you. Look at yourself. Look at me. Now tell me that this is not real, nor right, nor proper."

Infatuation found that she could not reply.

"I want to be with you, " said Desire.

"Please, don't push me. I can't."

Silence. Then a sigh from Desire. "I love you. How can I not but push you?"

Infatuation stayed with her husband. No words of good-bye to Desire, just a silent refusal to see her anymore. Desire raged at Infatuation, pleading, crying. Each time, she quietly placed the phone receiver back into its cradle and buried her feelings deeper within her. Slowly, the calls became less frequent, then stopped altogether. She refused to acknowledge her pain, but instead told herself again and again that this was the right thing to do.

It was a long time before she could make love to her husband again.

It was an even longer time before she could look into herself and realize that this was not the life she wanted anymore. She began to feel trapped in her marriage.

"What's the matter?, " he would ask her. "Can we talk about it?"

She would be unable to answer, unable to articulate the pain eating at her heart.

Memories of Desire's hands on her body haunted her dreams.

She finally left her husband, and took on many lovers. Men, at first, as she gradually came to terms with herself and her identity. Then, a few women. She would smile, and tell herself that Desire would be proud of her.

"See, I've accepted myself. Now come back to me."

Sometimes, she could almost see Desire smile.