“And then I realise that you’re somebody else’s guy”

This piece is dedicated to anyone who’s ever experienced playing with “The Line” and was written during the last two years that I was single.

What is it about music and its ability to connect with our souls? It’s like our heart talking to us. How does it know how we’re feeling and manage to play it back to us with such a depth it sings? My first big heartbreak has Adele’s “Someone like you” written right across its forehead. And now, I am adrift in a sea of contemplative solitude with just my songs for shipmates. Songs that make me think of you.

You.

There’s a right way to meet someone, right? “In a bar”, “through a friend” and even “dating app” [sick face emoji]. “When they’re with someone else” is not the scenario you want. It’s ugly, messy and really, you just want to make it go away.

How do you steer this ship through the karmic icebergs and come out the other side still afloat? You know what the “right” thing to do is — to stay the fuck away. You are not a silly young floozie who can blame doing the “wrong” thing on not knowing any better. The lines are clear to you. You are older, wiser. You see and understand what’s at stake. This is happily ever after and it’s other people’s lives we’re talking about.

With all three of my big relationships there was a distinct sense of momentum. I might’ve known them prior to us actually getting together, but when we did, it didn’t stall — there was an easy shift through the gears as we accelerated into cruise control on the love nirvana superhighway. It’s like there was something bigger than us pulling us together. And it was wonderful. And legitimate.

So, what about when it’s “not kosher”? It’s forbidden and tantalisingly close, right there in front of you. You can almost touch it. But you haven’t. And you can’t. What happens then — please somebody tell me — what happens then? Welcome to my current head fuck.

I feel like this is a good juncture to lay out some facts. You might be thinking: “this girl is an absolute homewrecking bitch.” We’ve never actually “done” anything — it’s an emotional connection and no physical lines have been crossed. We try to keep away from each other, but circumstances can make that difficult and we manage to trip over each other sometimes. He says he’s happy in his relationship. I think he has a looser interpretation of “The Line” than I do and a break up isn’t on the cards. Which leaves me desperately clinging on to my slightly tattered copy of the “girl code” handbook, reminding myself that he’s an arsehole for letting things get this far, and trying to steer well clear of him.

My friends are not impressed, particularly with his behaviour. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” they chime. And as he and I veer into dangerous territory, I frantically point out the glaring warning lights and scream at him to hit the brakes. We do, but then somehow, before we know it, we’ve started speeding again.

The emotions have me in turmoil, but the right thing to do is never in doubt. Stay back; stay well back. You say to yourself: imagine if “the girlfriend” was your best friend. Or, what if this was done to you? How would you feel? If he can do this to her, he can do this to me. And what does this say of his character? You discuss that you have different interpretations of “The Line”. You think he’s naïve and, quite frankly, selfish. The dilemma tugs at your integrity, begging you to stay strong. You want to be able to stand up in a court of love and plead “not guilty”. The universe may have unwittingly thrown your souls together but she’s testing you to stay true and be honourable. To prove that you can live your deepest value of honesty more truly than ever before (so help you God!).

You know that this would be more than a “quicky”. In fact, you think this has the potential to be the real deal. But if this ever could be something, you don’t want it to start in the shadows like this. No, you may not be able to help who you meet or how you feel, but you are in control of how you act. Karma’s a bitch and, put a foot over that line, and one day it’ll come boomeranging back to hit you where it hurts.

This morning we step back from the line again.

I’m proud to say that that was the end of it — this car was abandoned, burnt out at the Heartbreak Hotel. And it looks like Karma’s had my back ever since…