Hungry

My whole life, I was a flirt. I teased, I tormented. It was all in fun. I made sure I never offended and it was always wanted. It was what fed me, what made me feel good about myself, even if it was all faked.

Then I found him. He was all I needed. I stopped flirting, because I didn’t want him to feel as if he wasn’t enough, because he was. It was like the old adage; Out of sight, out of mind. I never quite thought about it again.

Occasionally there would be that spark, and I couldn’t help but tease someone out of affection for them. Not love or lust, mind you, just fun. I swear it creates endorphins; flirting was my workout. I was out of shape.

Recently I hit the flirting bottle hardcore, and when it was brought to my attention, it made me feel like shit. It felt like I had cheated, I felt like shit. I didn’t do anything that be construed as cheating, but I still felt terrible inside.

I was near tears driving home thinking about it, and then a song came on the radio (Human by The Killers). It’s rare that a song hits me at the right time and says the right thing. The main lyric is “Are we human/or are we dancer?” And it’s a good question. I’m only human, and it doesn’t matter where you get your appetite, just as long as you eat at home.