As I looked around the room I saw some of the most beautiful, creative and influential women in the city. Some of them wore sequined masks meant either to conceal their high-profile identity or for dramatic effect. Others were dressed in leather cat suits complete with floggers and paddles. All of them were dressed to kill.I watched as a young woman weaved her way though the crowd offering little pieces of chocolate from a silver tray while another server carried glasses of wine and champagne. The volume of the music was low enough to easily facilitate conversation but it filled the room with a low frequency beat that I found to be extremely sensual. In fact, it seemed that every little detail had been carefully crafted to seduce the senses and encourage the loosening of inhibitions.Women continued to arrive and around 9:30, a woman dressed in nothing but a pony's tail jutting from her ass and red high heels came to the center of the room and announced that party games were about the. Idly, I compared him with my new boyfriend, just as a way to pass the time. If I had been more mentally acute, I would have found such a comparison altogether unnecessary, even offensive. But the ceaseless stream of prattle had lulled me into a daze and I allowed myself the foolishness. In short, my new man was kind, loving, and intelligent whereas my ex was spiteful, aloof, with flashes of intelligence. Sadly, I thought to myself that I did love my ex, at least at one point. That love had taken root in my heart like a mustard-seed, springing up bright and hopeful, only to die from prolonged neglect. With that perspective, I then realized that my relationship with the ex was inconsequential in the grand-scheme of things. We were together for almost three years, but in the long run, three years was only piss in a river. I smiled wryly as I remembered the past, the tumult of my emotions: fear, pain, love. My reverie was interrupted by a sharp nervous laugh. My ex-love had mistakenly.
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