And despite my crippling flaws revealing each day, you still came home at night. Was it that I was still beautiful? Or simply viable?
Love I never considered. Ours was based on a mutual neediness, lust and at times simply for the sake of a warm body to lay beside at night.
Were you simply too afraid? Too engulfed in the struggle of our life? It was then I decided to give you a more compelling reason to leave.
This new warm body felt strange. Its touch scared me, where your reassured me. The heat it radiated onto my body made me feel unclean.
It then dawned to me, you weren’t just another body. Your caress was soft, giving and lingering. Not forceful, demanding and rushed.
Thus in the arms of another, did I find how much I longed you. Loved you. Needed you far more than you could ever need me.
My infidelity drew us close. We found love at a strange place.
A DESI MUFFIN 
A fine try in justification of the inadequacy of love that leads to disloyalty. While the second person comes out triumphant, the writer merely proved himself to have taken love for granted and to be so blinded so as to need infidelity to recognise purity.
One might as well find a better word for such grave flaws of judgement than love.
I write my characters. I don’t judge them.