Potential Affair Partners Disappearing Like Sands in an Hour Glass
Tags: Cheating, Online Dating, Sexuality, Affairs, Love And Sex

Potential Affair Partners Disappearing Like Sands in an Hour Glass

Lovers Slipping Away

Photo by Rocco Stoppoloni on Unsplash

When you cheat, you have droughts. They are like the Sahara desert. Seemingly infinite stretches of sand without any relief in sight.

I’m thirsty.

And tired of looking.

Could my ad generate any “real” interest?

“I never reply to these…”

“I come here to laugh at the posts, but…”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

“Your post resonated with me,” is what I hoped they’d end with. “I just had to respond to you.”

Until they all fall through like sands in an hourglass.

Witness below the men that have wriggled off the hook. Nothing could keep us together. Text, email, Kik, 2 soup cans and a string, homing pigeons. Nothing.

Potential lover #1:

Corporate suite guy who was too far away for general ease of visits. I was interested, though, and he was game to come to me. He was bald and hot. Middle-aged with a twinkle in his eyes…he looked good enough to eat.

We tried setting up two meets. Both were no goes.

“Unfortunately, I can’t meet today. I had schedule changes with work. You are extremely intriguing, but I am coming to the realization that distance is an issue — best of luck. Totally my loss,” he texted.

Damn.

He let me down easy, but still. NOTHING.

Potential lover #2:

Another corporate guy who was far away. I know how to pick them, I guess. Easy camaraderie via text right from the get-go.

“I can come to you…” he texted.

“Maybe…’” I hesitated.

“I usually like to chat here for a bit to see if we might click. I hate to waste your time or my own,” I added.

“So, I’m definitely interested in you and want to keep chatting, but only if I know it’s going somewhere,” he wrote.

It’s going somewhere, I assure you on Kik — where all good conversations die slow deaths. And we texted back and forth for a few weeks before it trickled to NOTHING.

“Hey…” I texted.

Crickets.

Potential lover #3:

A guy I had met for coffee once, months ago, who resurfaced. It’s called submarining. Juvenile dating terms are my specialty.

“Remember me?” he texted.

“Yes, of course, I remember you!”

“Have you found someone?”

Do I tell the truth? Or lie?

Lie. Always go with lying.

“No…still looking.” Not really a lie. I’m always looking.

“Any chance we can get together again for coffee?”

“Maybe…”

I’m gonna’ make him sweat. He had a sick parent that put the brakes on affairing, but he could have checked in from time to time.

You would think he would be more persistent with round two. But, NO.

And, NOTHING.

Potential lover #4:

Ran into him on every platform. I recognized his profile from a mile away. AFF, OkCupid, Ashley Madison, Tinder, etc. He was putting up ads in the newspaper, practically.

“How’s the quest?” he texted.

“The quest. Good word choice,” I wrote.

“You may be overlooking a great match right in your backyard.”

“You mean my hubby? Naw!” I joked.

“You know what I mean.”

“A possibility,” I texted. I was so desperate, I wasn’t ruling anyone out. Horniness was getting to me.

What I thought was this guy was looking a little too hard. How many women did he cycle through?

And guess what? NOTHING.

He’s too busy playing the field.

What doesn’t happen is this:

After months of false starts, you text someone who is on your wavelength. Eureka! No weird pauses or second-guessing or backspacing. It’s a texting miracle!

You hope and pray he’ll be your type. Please let him be attractive, please.

You exchange pictures, and you are left speechless. Oh, this guy could be trouble.

Please let him find me attractive, please.

He actually has sweet things to say about your photos, nothing too lewd or indecent but just suggestive enough to fire up your loins.

Oh, my God, this might really happen!

You spend all your available time texting, learning about each other. And, you don’t look at the clock, ever.

“Wait, look at what time it is...”

“I should be…doing laundry, working, interacting with my family, fill in the blank, but I’m having too much fun texting you!”

You decide that you need to hear their voice. The voice is the clincher — it makes or breaks your decision.

His voice is deep and sexy and sends zings right to my pussy.

“I like your laugh,” he texts

“I like your voice, too.”

You feel like you have known each other longer than a few weeks.

“It’s like we’ve known each other for forever…”

“I feel so comfortable with you.”

You start to echo each other in communication without even trying.

This could be a Hallmark movie minus the adultery.

You talk about sex. It doesn’t have a forced Penthouse Letters vibe. You both share the same kinks. How rare is that?

“OMG, you like that, too!”

“I need to meet you now!” he texts.

This is perfect. My drought is over!

A date is set. Woo hoo!

“I can’t make it. Work issue,” he texts.

“Damn, let’s set another time.”

Another date is set. This is gonna be great!

Excuse #2. He tries to explain. It just twists the knife deeper.

Shit, this isn’t going to happen.

You second guess everything.

“Hey, let me know…”

Marked as read on your messaging app but no response.

Hmmm.

I am going to be parched.

The drought continues.