As with any addiction, hers was consuming. It rocked her suburban soccer mom world and split her in two. It created continual static in her brain compelling her to lead simultaneous lives; preferring the unattainable one to her own reality. While she sought refuge from her tedious level-headedness, it resurrected her from her self-imposed black hole. It was a quick fix; alluringly flattering yet cautiously anonymous.
It was almost 7PM. They finished dinner, she cleared the table, washed the dishes. She blandly busied herself while he pulled together his files, briefcase, mobile phone. She tried to hide her annoyance while he plodded about; obviously he was not in any hurry. She took comfort in his obsessive punctuality; he’d be leaving shortly. “What time are you home?” she asked, mentally tallying the moments she’d have available to indulge her habit. “About ten-ish.” That gave her 3 precious hours, assuming of course the kids would be cooperative and leave her alone. A few more moments of this ordeal and he was out the door, heading off to convince some poor drone he couldn’t live another day without a long-term disability policy or upping his death benefit to $2,000,000.
It began simply; out of curiosity; with a foray into one of those chat rooms. She was good at commanding an audience, particularly that of the cyber persuasion. She meandered about, without reserve; saying most anything; free to be the woman she imagined being; the woman she desired to be. The obsession began with her dissatisfaction and would end with her destruction.
He kissed her goodbye, a quick peck on the cheek. She mumbled, “Love you, be careful.”