MAXI: his Wife, MY Mistress

We knew what we were doing was wrong, but it felt so right. How could we be so close, after all this time had passed? Each time we were forced to say goodnight, it is was if our hearts were being ripped out of our chests. We wanted nothing and everything. She wanted nothing more than to lay our heads down on the same pillow at night. I wanted everything. I wanted to close my eyes on that same pillow, but I wanted everything that came with opening my eyes the next morning.

Making matters worse, we were separated by the Atlantic Ocean. She was six hours ahead, emotionally dying in a small village in Germany as a teacher, a mom and an unfulfilled wife. Meanwhile, I was here, in Boston, working in one of the top hospitals, filled with beautiful nurses and doctors, while maintaining my bachelorhood. But I only had eyes for Maxi. I couldn't get her out of my mind. Each time I looked around, I was seeing her face.

How would we navigate these unchartered waters, literally & figuratively? All of this with her being a married woman and mother of three little ones over there, and me over here, filled with love, passion and unfounded love based on letters, text messages and secret conversations over the telephone? How could we be so consumed with one another without having seen each other for over a decade? The physical touching and connection via our imaginations felt at times like we were drowning in the oncoming waves of emotions, both good and bad. All of this building up to a point of explosion that we both had to suffer our own versions of sacrifice to finally hold one another, again.