traveling
you know, it’s hard for me to transition back into my real every day life when i don’t know when i am going to see him again. in real life, in person, in the same breathing space. these past few months the transition really was much easier. but now it’s been a few months since we’ve seen each other in real life and the holidays are tough. to get time to interact even virtually, as expected as we are both in marriages with children, family obligations etc. I get it.
just because i get it doesn’t mean it doesn’t twinge. just because we do not talk about changing our situation or ever loving each outside of the mutual admiration society we have, doesn’t mean that i don’t miss him or have an ache around what we are.
just some musings…
*sigh* how could I refuse? It was my opportunity to sleep with him, if even for a moment. he was warm, not hot and sweaty but warm, snuggly warm, after the shower he had dried off, turned on the tv and hunkered down whilst I dried my hair. not out of vanity but practicality. I can’t get sick, and sleeping with wet hair in a cool room tends to give me a cold. There he was, dozing, and sexy as hell. Peaceful, no stress lines around his eyes, but relaxed and breathing. I giggled as I turn the tv down, low enough not to be a distraction but loud enough to ensure we don’t fall asleep completely.
Oh I was tempted, trust me. He stirred as I climbed in next to him and as if on instinct, he rolled to his left side and scooped me up into him. warm, fuzzy, snuggly. his breathing starts to slow and deepen and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation around me and the way I fit. As if I was meant to fit just like that into him. My eyes start to flutter shut and I go to match my breathing with his when I realize that not only is his heart beat slow, steady, but his lung capacity must be incredible as I can’t match him breath for breath. I stop trying and instead, I allow myself to listen to the way he breathes, the snoring that tells me has fallen asleep, truly asleep and off I went.
Suddenly I wake, disappointed as I realized he is stirring and surprised to see that 45-minutes have flown on by. My heart is beating fast, not wanting this moment to end. This nap. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he kisses my neck as he says “shh baby, so sleepy, let’s just snuggle a bit more” and he nuzzles my neck making my nipples instantly respond and the moisture spring forward between my legs. “m’kay…” is my only response as I settle back into him and close my eyes. Willing myself not to cry from the happiness inside that confirms what I suspected, I am indeed in love with him. I want to sleep with him. Naked. Warm. Entangled. Willing myself to cry from the heartbreak of reality that he will never be mine. Not this way. Not entirely. Not unless he’s willing to acknowledge that life is messy, life is not planned and life has a way of showing us what is what in unexpected way.
And so I lay back and close my eyes for those remaining moments in which my life makes sense. if even for a moment.
eighteen months ago. who knew? eighteen months ago.
for everything that has transpired. for the way my eyes have been opened and my heart beats i am grateful. to know he will never be mine. i would still be the first one to lean up for that kiss. that. very. first. kiss.
I can’t sleep. Again. No, I mean, as usual. I have had an intimate relationship with Insomnia since my pre-teen years. Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me. Sometime’s I swear my soul is dying and I’m begging for a decent r.e.m. cycle. And other times, I welcomed him with open arms, taking great pride in being able to balance many things and get projects done in the middle of the night when the rest of the household is asleep.
My doctor’s have been very clear with me over the last few months. I have got to sleep. I need to reduce my stress, even my good stress and repair. Tonight, tonight I can’t sleep, I’ve made the cake for one child’s birthday, prepped for tomorrow, and took care of some items for my oldest. Darling husband is sleeping and I’m listening to the storm rolling through.
I can’t help but think of him. My long distance lover who I didn’t get to interact with at all today. I knew this was going to be the case, given his role in his community and the community event for a very good cause. Still, he knows how much connection of some sort, any sort, is to me and I grinned when I saw the simple email he sent saying good morning. I was positively giddy when he sent an unexpected text of a picture of him at the event. And his good night mail to me made me blush.
And so, as the rain tries to lull me, I think back to the time before last in which we had several hours together over the course of a few days in the same general area. And I *sigh*. It had to be one of our best moments together, ever. I don’t know if it’s because we are both on a similar page in regard to our pleasure. Or me knowing that he has a pattern to his travel routine and by knowing it, I can work within the construct of those boundaries for us to have a lovely time. Whether it’s dining at the local pub and enjoying trivia night. Or catching lunch before he heads to his presentation and enjoying time with him in public as friends. And of course, the amazing sex that fans the flames of desire. Flames that don’t seem to fade or even flicker. My god, I thought I was horny, lustful and yearning before I met him.
If only. I had no idea how much more sexually wanting and open I’ve become because of him. Because he genuinely desires me and lusts for me as me. He isn’t judgmental and he is so incredibly sexy that I can’t help but feel desirable, sexy and free to be wanton when I’m with him. By knowing him. Whether or not he would spend the night wasn’t the point. The point was purely a selfish indulgence on my part. And it was spectacular. And worth every damn penny.
He fucked me up against the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the water. He fucked my thoroughly on the couch and then I scrambled on top to ride him hard, cowgirl style until my thighs gave out and I had squirted on his belly. And the glass shower, and the two person tub, and the desk and the bed.
The recollections sustain me and also kill me. Literally. And so here I am, wide awake, recalling very vivid memories of him from not so long ago.
*sigh*
is me is really me 