No Angel

This gets more difficult to write…

Life returned to the daily grind after the end of my “relationship” with the stripper. I wrestled with my conscience for the next few months; I was not enjoying the experience of being unfaithful but I missed the intimacy and affection I had experienced with her. I tried everything at home to gain favour, but it was all to no avail.

I would return home from work every night, increasingly dragging my feet up the hill as I walked home with increasing trepidation. Would I incur her wrath for some minor transgression I was unaware of: stacking the plates incorrectly in the dishwasher, not measuring the correct amount of porridge and milk for the the kids, or perhaps breathing. I jest, but really it was making me miserable. She would mock me and sneer at me in front of the children to the extent that they would copy her: it really was becoming intolerable. I did what I could for self-protection: I withdrew into myself and tried to remain invisible. Looking back, this was probably not the most appropriate response, but it was the only one I was capable of. We did less and less together, which at least gave me more time for Alice.

Following a Channel 5 documentary, I discovered I joined up and arranged a date.

Knocking nervously on the door of a hotel room, I had no idea what to expect.

For the next two hours I forgot all my worries and got to spend to time with someone as Alice. I left with a big grin on my face and a new found confidence.

There was no doubt I would repeat the experience

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