I couldn't sleep that night. I knew she would call me, so I hit the balcony lights to catch a smoke after my wife had dozed off. My wife isn't menstruating any more, and these days nothing turns me on except my tablet. She texted me, "Hey, you up?" I typed a reply, but discarded the draft. I headed to the washroom, dropped my pants and switched to incognito mode on my browser for some late night browsing.

But I left the water running in the washroom. I didn't masturbate. I came back to my bed, shut my eyes and tried to dream of her skin and sweat, but all I could smell was the pheromones dripping from my underarms. I slept that night with a faint excitement and kissed my wife in the morning with a morning wood under my pyjamas.

That's how exciting my marriage was. The hope of an extra affair was the only excitement.

We broke up on a mid-winter afternoon. I came back from work and saw my wife with another man. His height was tall but he was old and weak. It didn't seem to matter to my wife as the man was in complete admiration of her veena playing skills. Love, like other things, can't die again, but it certainly dies hard.

After that, we never spoke at the dinner table again. I asked her not to divorce me and she asked me to stock the fridge with ready-to-mix breakfasts. She would be there for one more month to hand over the duties of the kitchen. And what about the bed? I asked. She didn't look back.

From diabetes to thyroid, my body today has enough excuses not to have sex. I don't regret the missed opportunities in my bigoted youth. I could have been a sensation, acasanova with multiple affairs and a fatal STD, but all I could manage in my life was a divorce.

These days my wall stares back at me, blank and dead, through me. My little pug whimpers in the pain of living alone with me.

My phone buzzes again, this time it's a 20-year-old guy sending me nude selfies and expecting some in return from me, aka meow. Meow is my creation. She is a fake profile.

I download pictures of anonymous body parts, limbs, etc. and tease young men with them. They never ask who meow is. They never really ask for the face. They're just happy with the tease. I'm lying with this lie and I will wake up to lie more.

You know, this is a game where you don't lose. I'm in love with my deeds and loathe everything that doesn't let me play.

Today, I live with the disgusting hope that one day I could lie to a lesbian and fake my love.

Sometimes I wonder, "Is meow my alter ego?"

I wish I could be a better master to my little puppy. I wish I could get a cute little bitch for him too. But I did nothing.

At least I have found my muse. My otp to unlock my secret fantasies of turning on others far from my messed up life. Life is now a hollow sham that beeps day and night with the notification lights from my 7 tablet. Where else can I ever find a better friend than my tablet who keeps all my secrets so close to her heart?

Me, meow, and my little tablet are nothing short of a true pairing! I did nothing. At least I have found my muse, my otp to unlock my secret fantasies of turning on others for my messed up life. Life isnow a hollow sham that beeps in day and night with the notification lights from my 7 tablet. Where else can i ever find a better friend than my tablet which keeps all my secrets so close to her heart.

Me, meow, and my little tablet are nothing short of one true pairing!

I did nothing.

At least I've found my muse, my OTP to unlock my secret fantasies of turning on others for my messed-up life. Life is now a hollow sham that beeps in day and night with my notification lights 7 tablet.

I have never found a better friend than my tablet who keeps all my secrets so close to her heart. So me and my little tablet are nothing short of one true pairing!