The Boundaries We Cross

 

It didn’t start with a touch, nor with an undeniable physical spark—it started with a moment. A fleeting instant where two souls collided in the most unexpected of ways.

We met at a conference, surrounded by polite conversations and the hum of controlled professionalism. And yet, within that chaos, something quiet and seismic occurred. A recognition. A pull. Not love, not lust—something deeper. Something more dangerous.

A month passed before we met again. When we did, I played a careful game. Every word, every laugh, every shared glance became part of an intricate dance, the kind where the rules blurred and the steps became improvisation. I waited until the last possible moment to say, I have a boyfriend. Not because I had forgotten, but because I wasn’t ready to destroy the possibility—the thrilling what if hovering between us.

We parted ways that night, but the seed was planted. He had become something I couldn’t easily let go, someone who gave me a feeling I wasn’t ready to abandon. Not better than my fiancé. Not worse. Just… different.

M exists in a realm outside of my normal life, outside of labels and expectations. Sometimes we hook up. Sometimes we don’t. Once, we waded into moonlit waters, stripped of everything except honesty, and spoke until dawn. I should feel worse about the deception. But I don’t. Not really. Not for this.

Would it destroy me if I got caught? Absolutely. And him, too. I picture it sometimes—the fallout, the devastation, the wreckage of everything I’ve built. But if I truly wanted an escape, I’d leave my engagement behind. And I don’t want that. I want both.

And so, I continue to toe the line, dancing on the edge of two worlds, seeking not escape but discovery. Love is not always tidy, and desire is rarely obedient. Some spend their lives running from temptation. I run toward it—seeking, stretching, pushing past boundaries, curious about what lies beyond them.