Dinner for 2

The boots match the necklace. The purse matches the skirt. The earrings match the belt. The nails match eyes. The shirt drapes over her torso ever so softly revealing her amazingly soft creamy skin which is accented by her flowing expertly highlighted hair. The goddess strolls into the room blessing the world with her beauty. She is the caramel Venus, down amongst the trolls. The ultimate winner of the genetics melting pot. The best of 3 heritages shining greater than any before her. I'm breathless as always.

Her entrance is as grand as it has ever been. A magical stroll of gorgeous detachment. She navigates the mortal realm as a specter floating through space above everything, save what interests her at the time. The universe is recreated for her every morning when she wakes and ceases to exist when she closes her eyes at night. There is nothing beyond herself. Her eyes meet mine and my heart jumps still. She leads, as always with that dagger of a smile, beaming of an almost insane confidence. Not true confidence but the appearance of it.

She never loved me but she loved having me there for her. I supported her with an efficiency of an unrequited lover. I once thought of myself to be her favorite toy. She treated me as such. I hate myself for ever having liked it and for liking it the way I did. I was the movie friend. The dinner companion. The hang out buddy. I would have ran into burning building to fetch her ice water for the chance to have her around for one more minute. I dreamed of touching her in the most pathetic sort of way. Brushing against her arm, her leaning against me or (gasp) holding her hand. I could never imagine such happiness as a kiss.

That was the downfall I think. I respected her above all else, more than she even respected herself I believe. I wore my infatuation with her like a big puffy, purple mink coat. After a long day of going out and being used and abused by everything and everyone I was the her favorite couch to relax on. That's where she wanted me and that's where I was.

I was under the spell. I don't know why. All the time we spent together, gave me a chance to thoroughly inventory her. I lived for her star qualities and I knew her every flaw. From how she mispronounced "prescription" (perstription) to her nearly palpable forgetfulness about everything. I've come to see now that she was the most needy and weak minded person I had ever met. Something about being stunningly beautiful robbed her of any desire to do for herself. Any solution to any problem involved her getting someone to do something about it for her. To her, everything could be fixed with a kind word and that smile. That ethereal smile. The rare times that did not work, her usefulness evaporated like water in the desert. She would wait for someone to restore it by acknowledging her beauty and correct her life for her. It was the most pathetic and attractive thing about her.

The main pitfall for us is her insatiable need for attention. She was a status vulture. Her substantial investment in the time, money and energy into being blindingly alluring necessitated her having a companion of the utmost potential to draw attention. He had to be her ultimate accessory. She needed the president of the Alphas. The biggest and baddest Q dog and I was just an Iota. She needed the quarterback and I was a sometime fan in the stands. I would never be enough for her because I was recognized and respected by everyone that knew my name. She wanted someone revered by all.

I grew tired of wearing my smiling mask. It hid my resentment, my jealousy, my crying eyes from her sight. It was too heavy for me to carry any longer. It had gotten to the point of everyday visits and every weekend wasted catering to my pedestal princess. I had had enough. I had matured greatly over the course of our affair. I'd gained strength and knowledge of life. I knew I was choosing stagnation, a voluntary servitude to a woman devoid of the ability to connect with me. I forfilled her need for true male companion ship and she left me wanting for everything. She adored my affection and let me down ever so gently when I dared ask for more from her.

Here we are. On my rare visit home she caught me at my friends house and arranged our dinner. After her spectacular entrance, I sit and eat with the most beautiful woman I have ever known. A woman that drives a Mercedes that she can't afford. A woman that has spent a small fortune to feed on the attention of people she doesn't even know. A woman with a smile to die for, that hasn't read a book in 5 years. A woman that is now the opposite of perfect for me because I am now the opposite of infatuated with her.

The spell is broken. I toasted my emancipation in a silent happiness.