leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I spent the rest of the night rereading the same page in a book I didn't want to be reading I get home, running up the stairs. Check my reflection in the mirror. He calls a minute later. Says he's almost there, am I home yet, is it okay. I say yes, yes. He knocks. I open the door. My heart goes thump, thump, and I smile and swing myself into his arms. He's smiling (he's not a smiler) and repeating sort of stammery "You look good, god you look good." I step back and look at him and in that instant I decide to throw caution to the wind and just need him. I hug him repeatedly. He steps inside. We both say things which are now a blur. He inspects my bookshelf while I stand behind him working out some of the knots in his shoulders and neck. He comments on a few books. Tells me about a new movie he rented that was really good. (He likes westerns.) He asks about the meds. I release him and walk away to get them from my purse. He follows. I hand them to him; tell him to take one right then, so they'll start to work. I ask again if he's allergic to anything. Tell him to take them 24 hrs apart. He calls me an angel and a doll and a life saver and hugs me. I savor his arms around me, melt in that safe feeling, kiss him. He kisses back. Then buries his face against my neck and kisses it repeatedly while I am bliss and contentment. He says he's gonna get me sick. I say it's okay, I'll just get more antibiotics. He says he has to go, has to be at work. I say no. I say call in sick, call in dead. Run away. Stay with me. He says he wishes. I frown and finger my cowboy hat which is on the desk. He says put it on. I do. He says "Dear God" and turns away from me. Says I'm beautiful. Says he likes my hair dark; it goes with my eyes. (I dyed it dark again.) He kisses me goodbye and says he'll call.
Three minutes later my phone rings. It's him. He says "Hi baby. I just wanted to hear your voice again. I'm almost there. Whatcha doin? Be good, okay. I'm there now. I'll call you later. I miss you. Bye Honey." My heart does a fluttery thing. And my flesh burns in all the places he brushed against me or grasped playfully before he left. Handprints on my ass and my breasts and my back that I felt for the rest of the night. He calls later and in some context I don't remember I call him beautiful. He laughs and calls me blind and says I "could do 50 times better". Silly thing doesn't know I've already married him, named the babies, and planned our retirement. God, please don't take him away. Don't let him be lying and cheating on some poor pretty wife somewhere. I'm running completely on balls or foolishness at this point. Please don't crack my chin on the cement. For once can't I keep one? 2:22 p.m. - January 26, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||