another letter

dear ----,
i appreciate the words of encouragement concerning my last "letter". it's important for me to have an audience without actually having an audience. you figure things out through your lyrics; i figure things out in e-mails that never get sent. in other words, i feel comfortable telling things to a stranger (because that's really what you are) rather than people i see on a daily basis. they tend to catalog statements and remind you of them later. and you become culpable for any instruction that might have been administered. "see! i told you that would happen...." you somehow feel obligated not to disappoint them, to somehow diminish yourself in their eyes. that's unpleasant. no one likes to be vulnerable or feel manipulated out of the choice-making process. so, i can express myself freely to you, without regret. you have no vested interest, and will therefore offer none of the platitudes and admonishments offered by moms and man-hating best friends everywhere.
it must be evident from my previous posts that the nature of things has changed for the better. my love has come partway back. i say partway, because even though he acknowledges our compatibility, and even though he told me that i make him happy, there are no guarantees that things will work out the way i want them to. let me refresh your memory on that point: i want to spend the rest of forever cooking him dinner, arguing about religion and politics, and holding hands. i've done all those things and more. and i feel content.
see, i know what i want from a relationship. this is mainly because i was so unhappy in my previous ones (particularly my marriage--you may have caught the story about it elsewhere). i don't think my ex- is evil. he's just not right for me. but my baby....oh, he's perfect.....perfect for me. i don't have to convince myself; i just know it.
so he came to see me the week before christmas. we spent a great deal of time getting the backdrops ready for the school's christmas play. he helped me, took me out to dinner, took me shopping, fulfilled my needs. HE CAME TO SEE ME. my heart ached loudly enough that he heard and responded. i don't beg, but i'm honest. i don't hold back; pain can be cathartic in the end.

i wish i had a definitive way to describe my future with this man. he knows what i want, and i think he wants it too. but he's struggling to get past some of the impediments. all i know is that when i look into his eyes, all the cheesy romance novels and love songs and chocolate-fondue poetry become real and valid for me. i see us twenty years down the road-me with my hair dyed an unnatural color and him with an extra fifteen pounds around his waist-and none of that would be true if the feelings weren't reciprocated. it's when he's there and i'm here, and his dad is chewing away on his ear about the detriments of marrying an OLDER woman with THREE children, that he loses sight of the truth.
but i don't.

Sated

I took the day off, and we went shopping in Mobile.
We had grits and eggs at the Coffee Cup first,
then headed west on the interstate.
The ride was comfortable: we talked, we laughed,
you held my hand while your other one rested on the steering wheel.

When we got to the mall, you told me to pick out whatever I wanted.
I didn't tell you that you walking with you arm around me was all I wanted,
and that i didn't need anything else.
That would have sounded trite.
Besides, the Christmas present you were getting me
was already extravagant.
So I said nothing, and just smiled.
You put your arm around me as we strolled through the crowds.
We wandered around, looking for the Apple store.
Turns out the closest one's Birmingham.

We got some coffee at Starbuck's, and wondered where to go next.
I didn't care. I was with you.
We bought some gifts for the kids at Best Buy, then got back on the road.
You got on-line and ordered my gift when we got home,
then you made me feel good all over again.
That perfect fit.

We ate out later-a tapas place downtown-and it was delicious.
It was our favorite place to go when you still lived here,
besides the Italian restaurant we went to the night you got in.
Feeling you near-your hand holding mine, your arm around my waist:
I always want to feel that security, that sensation of fullness,
that feeling of being sated.
I wasn't worried about losing you again;
doubts will creep in over time, I'm sure.
But that day, my cup was as full as it could be, without running over.

Italian Restaurant

Table for two by a crackling fire-
the hostess could see something in our eyes.
Our waiter kept filling our glasses with a smile.
Your Pasta Diavolo was spicy-
"Just like me," I said with a grin.
"Yeah. But you're sweet, too."
Your knee touched mine.
Your finger brushed the silky fabric on my shirt,
and lingered there. I felt my skin through your touch, your eyes.
I couldn't help staring into them; so green and clear.

You talked about physics, and I was interested...
because it was you talking.
I couldn't help touching your hand--you'd warmed mine
in the car, on the way from the airport.
Then, my fingers had hesitated before finally curling around the fingers
lacing through them.
At the restaurant though,
I took your hand and started gently kissing and biting your knuckles.
You lost track of what you were saying,
and had to shift in your chair.
I smiled, and glanced away before returning your gaze.

We made it home quickly, you following me in your rental car.
Back in my room-it seemed like you'd never left--
I found myself being lifted and carried to the bed,
as your lips kissed mine.
They were gentle at first, then more insistent.
I was ready.
I was ready when I first saw you pull up in your car.
I was ready before you ever got here.
You fill me up in a way that's right.
We laughed and played and lay there on the bed.
I felt sexy and silly and complete.
I think people hope for that; I know I do.
I was in your arms, and the warmth was unimaginably right and true.

With words, I try to frame the picture,
to wrap the present and all its meanings;
to capture something that may not last.
But last night, when you lingered and murmered,
"We still have some time, right?" it was perfect.
We were perfect.

"best friends"

you'll be here monday.

I'll See You Soon, II

It's 5:00 am and I'm improbably awake.
The cat litter needs changing.
There are papers to grade.
The house is a mess,
and I feel like life has gotten away
from me.

i guess these things take time....

i am overwhelmed with the scent and breathlessness of desire-the desire to hold that gasp that comes when you touch my skin with your eyes, your fingertips, your teeth.

my body doesn't realize what my mind has been told: that you no longer have the will to dominate my senses, to possess me, to overpower my need to be uniquely me; it embraced the will to become something more-uniquely us. it hasn't realized that it will no longer be part of you. and it suffers...the held breath, the longing, the hope....they all make it hard to remember to breathe.

how is it that only my body, and not yours, feels this? when will it forget you? when will it forget contact of your male strength-hair, hard muscle, power-and my female strength-soft skin, reception?

i feel your body's pressure on mine: your chest pressed against my back, your hands grasping the curve of my waist, your breath on my neck, in my ear; i arch, but there is no fulfillment. voluptuous impotence-it's an emptier place than most.

how can you give up what we had? i haven't been able to, yet.


********************************************************

i leaned over the edge and across my bed to reach something; the pose reminded me of you. i have the strongest urge, feeling something i've been denied for months. i want to bare my shoulders, my back, my hips, and feel your hands cover the terrain as i arch and press against, and wait for you. a ghost finger races its way across the expanse of the skin on my back. it feels like a candle's flicker, as it .....

what an exercise of verbal futility. how do words encompass the loss i feel? a pointless loss. it wasn't a love that weakened, that got battered by lack of interest or miscommunication or betrayal or boredom. how do i tell you what i'm feeling? what would you say? do i put you in an awkward position or suffer in silence? i miss you 'til forever. i miss you , and all the tears i'll ever cry aren't enough to drown and purge my need for you. how does real love, THE love, turn into unrequited love? this is such a mistake.