Man does not live by words alone, despite the fact that sometimes he has to eat them.
—Adlai E. Stevenson Jr.
It’s after dinner, and while her parents are putting the dishes away downstairs, she’s going down on me, lying on her pink sheets, pants pulled down to my knees. Her brother’s in his room next door, and I’m pressed up against the wall that separates us. In my quickened breath she hears that I’m on the verge of moaning, and keeps me in check with an embarrased shush.
It wasn’t true. I was just lost in the moment, addicted to the heat of her tongue.
A week later, we broke up.
This is why they have the insanity plea. When you catch your wife in bed with another man. When you tell someone that you love them, because you’re intoxicated, getting the best head you’ve ever had in your life.
And to this day what I regret the most wasn’t the conflict I caused in her family with my eventual absence, or the taking of her virginity, or dating someone else the day after we broke up.
It was that I couldn’t control my words for those ten little minutes.