posted to drafts folder march 1, 2014
the sound of the driving rain against my office window reminded me of the way the water hits the shower door. As if begging for our attention as you kiss me, leaving me breathless and thirsting for more.
it’s hard to believe that it’s been so long since we’ve been together in those moments before we part yet again. I realize that last year, was a unique year for the two of us with travel schedules that synched up more often than not. this year, well now this year is different for an entirely different reason. isn’t it?
and yet, it doesn’t make me miss you any less. it doesn’t make me not long for the sound of the water…no. if anything the longing permeates throughout my being
….and or saved in the drafts folder in order to write more later. the next few posts are likely going to reflect this habit of mine.
posted these image quotes to my drafts folder 4 February 2014. (side note: three days before D-day.)
I was going through very regular and arduous chemo treatments every other week and unlike previous treatment plans, this round was kicking my ass. There was surgery at the end of December and the healing from that was taking longer than I expected. I had once again brought up the subject of counseling to dh, testing the waters if you will, again. And again, he wasn’t interested at all. And even went as far as to say he wished I would lean on friends and my therapist for emotional support because as he said at the time “it’s not in my wheelhouse, you know that.” I admit that in that moment, I already knew who I could lean on, even from three thousand miles away, I was just hoping dh would be the one.
On this particular day, it had been several months since we’d seen one another in real life and yet he had found a way to connect with me that I had come to look forward to. He would leave me a daily greeting the moment he went to his office, knowing that I would wake up to a voicemail from him every day had become the highlight of the two months he’d been doing it. It may seem small or insignificant to some, maybe even most people, and of course horrible to those that don’t approve/agree of our mutual admiration society. But to me, especially to me it was his way of giving to me, what I needed at the time.
Outside of the guilt and the remorse, and yes, there is guilt and remorse. There is also love. I recall starting this post with the three images below because the words resonate and because regardless of who you are, who you love and who loves you back, it’s different for everyone. it’s nuanced. it’s flawed. and it’s messy.
continuing on the musical riff of today….i. have. no. words.
beautiful goodbye by richard marx
i looked up and suddenly he was here. right in front of me. in. real. life. and yet again, as my breath caught in my throat and i look into his cerulean blue eyes i found myself at a loss for words.
still. even now. every first time. and when he smiles and the blush reaches his eyes as they darken with lust. my heart beats faster and the moisture pools in my panties.
after we were led to the suite by the proprietor and the door shut behind him. i launched myself at him. standing on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck as he leans down and engulfs me in his arms. holding me still against him, knowing that in the moment, right then and there, things would be alright.
and then there was that moment. that nanosecond just before our lips meet. again. for the first time. after months apart. the three thousand + miles that separate us, among other things, fades as his hands; strong, firm yet gentle become urgent against my skin and my body responds without hesitation.
i’m a proud, card carrying pluviophile. always have been. i don’t know if it’s a condition of growing up in the great pacific northwest or if it’s a combination of growing up here and having parents that didn’t restrict activities because of the rain. unless there was lightning strikes, my siblings and i were playing outside. riding bikes in the rain, football, soccer, running-yep all can be done in the rain. gardening, walking to the store, etc. on the flip side, rainy days also equate snuggly blankets, reading for hours on end, taking a nap. And as I got older, I’ve always found rain to be soothing, romantic and reviving as well as the perfect company for those moments when all i want to do is cry.
the romantic in me has always stopped at the sight of love in the rain. a pair holding hands and sharing an umbrella, children laughing and splashing in puddles with abandon, a couple sharing a kiss.
when we last met, each of us flying to a city where we are both anonymous in our every day lives, the weather was unusually warm and dry for the time of year. knowing my penchant for the rain, he surprised me while we were sharing a bath and turned on the shower as well and then he kissed me. and kept kissing me. kissing in the rain.
of feelings today. and right now, at this very moment i am unbelievably sad. that is all.
before we met we exchanged a flurry of emails that started as witty banter and escalated in to a battle of words. words that demonstrated our imaginations and then our extensive vocabularies and then a truce.
ok, we said. let’s keep “chatting” over email because it was fun. it was nice to correspond with someone that had a sense of humor, broad knowledge on a range of topics and asked questions about my life, my interests, my family.
when it became clear that i was intrigued by this smart, well written man i agreed to meet him the next time he was out my way. a change in his schedule as he was in the air almost prevented the meeting from taking place.
when he walked into the lobby of the building, i will never forget the way i knew it was him before even turning my head. my body was abuzz and every fiber was on alert. then i heard his voice and it was the voice i made up in my head when i read his emails leading up to our meeting. what i wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that ran through me when we shook hands. the minutes flew by, chatting, laughing and conversing as if we had known one another a long time. he walked me to my car and we said good bye. the only physical touch was that handshake. but he was in my head long before that.
the reality of our mutual admiration society is one in which we are buoys in one another’s harbors of real life. truthfully, when we met and embarked on what was to be the fwb ideal, he was traveling to the west coast, specifically my area, roughly every 3-4 months. and he did return, two months later for a few days and then all sorts of real life changed the face of his clients, the areas in which he traveled and worse of all, his personal life was dealt a blow that impacted his bride and he had to focus elsewhere. we muddled through, with several weeks where he went dark, i was confused and being inexperienced and naïve, didn’t understand when he compartmentalizes, it’s a complete shut off of communication of any kind. and yet we reconnected (ok, ok if you ask him, he doesn’t think he went dark, really, and there was never a doubt we would reconnect) and by the fall of that first year, as he was balancing the challenges in his real life, he proved to be a good friend and companion, virtually, when a medical crisis imploded within my own family. even though weeks had gone by, almost 18, i was more connected than ever. and when we met that year, it was as if we weren’t apart. last year, we were fortunate to see one another on a steady cadence, more importantly we knew when we would see each other again. While I wouldn’t trade those times together, I know myself well enough to know that i was going to miss him. Terribly so. And each separation is harder than the next. I provide this rambling for context. You see, traveling to meet one another, on the cadence of his business travel or when i can travel on business out his way, isn’t sustainable. In his line of work, more and more of the client interactions can be done online, via Skype or virtual meetings, and the cost savings are too great to ignore. And so I wonder, will we fall into a Same Time Next Year or One Day cadence? Will that be enough for him? The bigger question is will I be able to live with and accept that as a new reality? Will I be able to reconcile that he will likely, if he doesn’t already, have a local “lady friend” and of course his bride? Or, as I become reflective and even more contemplative as of late, will we simply come to an end of the road? i too wish for the happy ending, mine just looks different than most, in that it would be to be together, in parallel to our real lives, for as long as possible. if even for those moments strung together once a year.