Fragments
This morning the fitted sheet was pulled from the mattress and he was snoring softly beside me. It was comfort. He came over last night and we stayed in bed until 4pm today. Tonight my bed feels empty. I will see him when I return but, tonight that seems a little far away.
You know at the very beginning, the getting to know you stage, there is a slight awkwardness in the most intimate of places. Light giggles, runny noses, knowing smiles, and snuggling up. All the time wondering what he is thinking, asking him if he is ok far too often. He asking the same, blissfully nodding a "yes".
Laying in just my tank top and panties, legs entangled, nose in his armpit. Restful and restless at the same time.
He smells good and tells me stories. He is silent appreciation. He is learning.
He is not mine, I am not his. Our hearts both lie somewhere else. Half way between loving someone who is not there and needing the comfort of who you are with.
He is no tomorrow. He is just a bit out of my world, far enough for comfort; close enough for familiarity.
I often know when something is going to be a train wreck for me and right now I see the cross bars coming down, the lights illuminating the tracks in red. and I hit the gas with the windows down and the music blaring. Caution to the wind and most likely I will end up in a tangled, twisted wreck.
Hopes will be high but expectations will be low.
I smell my sheets and fall asleep alone. Trying my damnedest to dance like no one is watching.
I lead a truly charmed life.