Page 2 of His Best Friend's Wife
2
Iknewthat my insatiable desire for Cassie was pathetic. She was the one woman I could never have, so it was irrational to keep pining overher.
It wasn't due to a lack of trying to get over her. I had sulked, cursed, and attempted to distract myself with loads of other women in feeble attempts to find someone more appropriate for myaffection.
Frequently, I found myself drawn to women who physically resembled her. They always disappointed me, though. In my mind, I couldn't stop comparing these other women to Cassie, and they always came up short. Their hair was too short, their eyes didn't crinkle when they laughed, they smelled too much like perfume, they were too tall, they talked too loud, or their nose was toolong.
I knew I was being ridiculous. Some of the women I met were wonderful, and I didn't want to shun them for such shallow reasons. It wasn't fair to hold them to an impossible standard, but I wasn't able to stop the incessant Cassie comparisons. I was becoming convinced that no one could help me get overher.
When I was fucking these other women, I was always picturing Cassie. I would close my eyes and ask them not to speak as I pounded into them, seeking––but never finding––a release that would satisfy the raging need withinme.
I even lost an erection during sex once because the woman's moans were too high-pitched and nothing like how I pictured Cassie would sound during the throes of ecstasy. I had asked her to quiet down implying that the neighbors could hear through my paper-thin walls. It was too late, though. I had been pulled out of my favorite Cassie fantasy (the one where she whispers in my ear that no one had ever given her an orgasm as mind-numbing as the one I just gave her), and my mind couldn't get back to it. I'm sure the poor woman––I don't even remember her name––felt like it was something she had done that caused me to lose any interest in finishing our banging session. I asked her to leave and started throwing back shots to help ease theguilt.
This was not how I wanted to treat women. I hated being a prick, but my mind refused to shut up about Cassie. The harder I tried to forget her and move on, the more obsessed with her Ibecame.
It occurred to me that I might have built Cassie up to some impossible standard in mind that no one could possibly live up to––including the woman herself, but I couldn't control the near-constant fantasies. I'm certain that the overwhelming emotion of being with real-life Cassie would trump any disappointment I felt at her not being exactly like my dreams ofher.
The other unwanted thought that wouldn't go away was the idea that if Dirk would suffer an untimely death, I could swoop in and take care of his broken-hearted widow. After all, Dirk would want his best friend to watch out for hiswife.
That rationalization for the dark daydream sounded lame even inside my head. Dirk would not want me to be with his wife. EVER. He'd probably come back and haunt me if I ever touchedher.
I didn't want Dirk to die. Really, I didn't. But I couldn't deny that it would make my love life (or lack thereof) much simpler. It might take years of patience and a lot of her crying on my shoulder over the loss of her husband, but I was confident that I could win Cassie's heart, if Dirk was out of thepicture.
It would be a lie to say the thought had never crossed my mind to help him along on his journey to the afterlife. That evil red devil on my shoulder likes to whisper that my life would be much better without my best friend. It's not true, though. Dirk and I have been friends our entire lives. He bests me at everything, but I can't imagine not having him around. I've gotten used to playing second fiddle to him, and I'm okay with it...most of thetime.
Dirk's death is definitely not the answer. Even though it's fun (in a dark, somewhat frightening way) to fantasize about once in awhile.
The solution to my problem is clear. I need to get over Cassie and move on with a life of my own. If only I knew how the hell to do that, I'd be more than happy tooblige.
