fidelity?

Half past nine in the night, the doorbell announces his arrival. I open the door, and he marches without even looking at me. My eyes are tired waiting for him. Today, he wore a white soft cotton shirt in the morning. It doesn't shock me anymore that the white shirt gets magically adorned with coloured lips. What is with us women and our fetish with playing with men's collars, I wonder! Hm. He smells differently today. Another acquaintance or has the current one changed the perfume? Well, I can't crib about this anymore. Wasn't I the stronger one in our relationship? Wasn't I who decided to allow him to decide for us? Wasn't I the one who claimed to be not good enough for him? Why then must him coming home late worry me? What is this strange love we have for ownership, I wonder!