Our open relationship finally resulted in her having an affair.
I had encouraged her. Perhaps to alleviate any guilt on my part.
At a public bar one night she announced that "the guy" was present.
She offered the option of pointing out the lover.
After a few minutes of contemplation I took it up.
After all, the whole open relationship thing is about confronting one's
irrational jealousies. Of course it was going to be hard the first few times.

I studied the so-called lover identified across the room observing quite cooly: 

  "He looks like a bastard".

I had first made sure I wasn't simply knee-jerk reacting to jealousy,
and her response confirmed it:

  "I know. He *is* a bastard. I find it all the more sexy.
   He is cheating on his girlfriend who is so nice when she talks to me.
   The poor innocent doesn't suspect a thing."

  "I can be an asshole too... if you like. 
   I'm a good actor when I want to be."

A lifetime of conditioning in a monogamous society
(hypocritical though it may be) had me wanting to 
(impossibly) be everything for her.
She didn't want fantasy, she wanted reality, and told me so:

  "It's not the same. I know you love me."

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Created for the Undesirable Propagation Unit.