by Keekah

"You don't know him like I know him," I said teasingly, laughing breathlessly as we walked back to our room. Silence greeted my comment; silence that stretched into uncomfortableness as I realized she was not laughing back. Our hands were joined, but where before they were joined in love, as the sound of our giggles and soft kisses danced around us, now they were suddenly just two hands holding onto nothing. "What's wrong?" I ask, angry and frightened because I already know the answer. "Why do you throw it in my face that you know him better than I do?" she asks with anger in her own voice and I sigh, resigned, as her insecurities fill the space between us that moments before was filled with anticipation as we returned to him, to our shared lover. It was going to be another long night.


Keekah is a native of Colorado dabbling in writing at An Existential Keekah. She aspires to write a novel or two before she dies.

1 comment:

Leatherdykeuk said...

Polyamory is beset with such jealousies. They are surmountable.