"Shhhhhh!!!! Be vewy, vewy quiet! I'm hunting wabbits!!!! H-e-e-e-e!", I say as I clutch my loaded gun. I'm sneaking around so softly through the woods, trying to find a rabbit. Not just any rabbit, but one rabbit in particular!

"Wasscaly wabbit", I say, "I hope it don't hurt too bad when I kill ya!". 

In the distance, I see him, gnawing on carrots with a most annoying grin. I start sneaking his way when down drops a net. I'm entangled and hoisted high over head. When I finally make sense of my situation, I look down and see the rabbit I've been hunting and he's laughing at me.

"Why you wittle scwewball! I'm going to hunt you down."

I remember my pocket knife and start to cut through the rope. I fall hard to the ground but have no time to focus on the pain. I need to kill this rabbit if its the last thing I do! He has taunted me so many times and caught me in so many traps. I've had enough of this rabbit and I want him DEAD! Again, I spot him and he's right in my crosshairs. I take aim and shoot! A near miss and he takes off running. I'm fueled with anger and there is no stopping me now. I'll run him down and kill him and hack him to bits!

"I'll get you, you wabbit! You'll be dead befow dawn! H-e-e-e!"

My laugh becomes maniacal and my rage burns my skin, I want nothing more than to see this rabbit gone.

In my anger, I become blind to my surroundings. All I see is him running and I'm chasing him, running faster than I thought my feet could possibly carry me. I trip and go tumbling down a very steep hill. With each tumble I see the rabbit getting further from my sight. Why isn't he taunting me? Why is he still running? This doesn't make any sense!!! This isn't the way it goes.

I feel a sharp stick in my side, I've landed in a cactus patch....no, it's a needle, but not from a cactus. I feel a deep burn in my hip and see a flash of white light. A man appears in a blue mask and I'm in a white room. How did this happen? I was just in the woods?? Who is this person? Why is he here and what did he inject in my thigh? I go to grab his arm but am strapped to a table. I try and wiggle free but the straps are just getting tighter.

 My arms look different. They aren't their peachy, warm color but a cold, white. I don't recognize them, I don't recognize me.

I try and tell the man who stabbed me with a needle, "I'm Elmer Fudd, wabbit kiwwer extwoidinaiwe! There is a wabbit I'm hunting and I need to go back to the woods!".

WHACK! He slaps me hard a crossed the face!

"Snap out of it, Melissa. This isn't a cartoon. You are not Elmer Fudd. You are a real, live woman. You are not hunting rabbits. SNAP OUT OF IT", he yells.

"I don't know what you are tawking about mista. I'm Elmer Fudd and I'm hunting WABBITS!!!! Did that wascally wabbit put you up to this? Is this another one of his schemes?"

WHACK! Again to the cheek.

"Melissa, you are not Elmer Fudd, this is not a cartoon. You are a real person, you had a real gun. You were not hunting a rabbit, but a person. Do you remember Jeff? He was your boyfriend. He cheated on you!"

"No! No! No!", I say shaking my head violently back in forth while trying to rip through the straps holding me down. 

"You killed him, Melissa. You shot him, dead. This cartoon fantasy of yours where you play Elmer Fudd hunting rabbits is what we call a coping mechanism. I've given you medicine to calm you down. If you cooperate I can give you a little more and then maybe this will all start making sense to you!".

I look up at the doctor with a grin on my face, lean towards him and say,

"You wook a wot wike that widicuwous wabbit!" , then I smile and laugh, "h-e-e-e-e."

Your beauty

Exceeds your 'gravity'

By the merest of fractions

I had an affair with the grown son of my husband's best friend. We carried on for months, we had secret meeting spots, we had secret apps on our phones to communicate. In public, we interacted as we always had. Behind closed doors, our bodies would fuse together in the hottest, absolutely forbidden, most intense sexual debauchery I'd ever experienced.

I knew I was in trouble when I saw him on a date. Quite by accident, we were at the same restaurant. On my way outside for a smoke, I spotted him... He was sitting at a small table in the darkened bar with a girl. A girl his own age, a girl much more suitable than I was. Outside, I fought tears as I tried to reel in my foolish heart. What was I thinking? That I was the only one? What right did I have to be jealous? So what if he was on a date, I was there with my husband. Logically, I knew this to be true. But who has a logical heart?

Months passed, but the affair wasn't ending. The girl from the restaurant hadn't reappeared. And then one night, he said he loved me. Like a naive schoolgirl, my heart soared at his proclamation. I loved him, I'd known it that night at the restaurant. But I'd kept that feeling to myself, certain that what we had together was temporary. I'd enjoy it while it lasted and wish him well when it was over.

Then he said he loved me.

I moved out a few months later. Crashing with friends, couch surfing until I finally got my own place. And my very first night in my brand new home, he was there. In my bed, in my arms. It was a glorious time, finally to be held by him all night. Waking up to his smile. Coming home to love and laughter and hope.

I started to believe in forever again.

But forever is a foolish notion created by lovesick poets & exploited by Hallmark. How could a love that began the way ours did stand a chance? We fought an uphill battle from day one. We caused pain & misery & humiliation to both of our families. We lied to everyone for nearly a year while we carried on behind their backs. We lied to each other during that time. We lied to each other after my marriage was over. We lied to each other today.

More than 2 years have passed since that affair began. We lived together for over a year. Until he left me a month ago. Broken-hearted & alone, I have screamed & raged against the unfairness of the world, against him, & mostly against myself. How could I let my stupid heart get carried away when my brain knew better?

We were doomed before we started. Love needs a solid foundation. Building love on lies is like building your home in the sand. It'll crumble and fall, no matter how pretty it is.