A phone call, then:
“Knock, Knock, Knock.”
I tiptoed quickly to the door… butterflies had been swirling in my tummy for days. *Click* I opened the door and poked my head around to see him as soon as physically possible. He would never know this, but I had been awake for hours… remaining in my jammies and tired face only to give the illusion that I wasn’t too excited to see him.
He burst through the door with a big smile and gripped me up. Firm. Strong. Excited.
I was supposed to be just like that embrace… firm, and strong. However, one look and all of my strength blew gently out the window. The fact was, I wanted to play hard to get. I wanted it so badly… but for him, I never actually was hard to get. He had me far before he knew he did. Or maybe he did know he had me all along.
While my strength and stance was quickly weakened, we rolled around in the crisp hotel sheets as long as time would allow. A short drive to another location, and soon he had to leave. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to leave him the last time – and now, after months – I had just gotten the chance to be near him again and he had to leave. I don’t think he wanted to leave either, because after a few hours… he finagled his way into coming back to me. Although it wasn’t his “ideal” situation, he was a good sport and we managed to get some hang out time in with some buddies before returning to our solitude, and rushing to get back into bed to be close to one another before he had to leave again. That night, when he returned to me for the second time… I couldn’t have been happier that him and I were *always* on the same page. We left the party we were at to be alone together.
We stayed up all night long.
I think we managed to snuggle down into the soft blue sheets around 8:30 in the morning. I have no idea what time we actually fell asleep, but the night was full of serious conversations about real, raw truths as well as making each other laugh in between stolen kisses and lustful glances. The whole night was so real. I imagined us together – this is what it would be like – to spend days and nights with you. Conversations with you. Time with you.
That same morning, we woke up in the early afternoon after our much needed “sleep”. The game was on so you can imagine the type of day it was J I won’t need to go into the details of the evening, but it was fun. It always is when we spend time together. The details that are most important to share are the ones that came late that night…
Once again, the next morning, he had to leave me - so the previous day (before the game) he asked several times, “Babe, you have to make me go to sleep tonight, even if I’m not tired… ok?”
“Babe! There’s no way you will listen to me if you don’t want to!”
“Convince me. Trust me, I will listen.”
“Ok.”
So after the fun – well… during the fun – I look over, and #boytoy… somehow, had gotten more and more beautiful as time with him progressed. Immediately I wanted him alone. I wanted all of his attention on me. I couldn’t stand it for even another second…
Quickly I look over and spit out, “Baby… we need to go to sleep.”
*looks at me*….he is processing my statement, trying to read the hidden undertone.
It clicks with him and he responds, “Ok…. Yeah, you’re right.”
We say good night to the crew and right after the door clacks shut we quickly confess that neither of us are ready for bed.
Duh.
*always on the same page*
Some point shortly thereafter, we make it to the bedroom. We roll around, and both of us just seem excited to be able to touch each other, be close to each other, and to be able to see one another.
For a moment, we meet each other’s eyes and it’s like the world around us was nonexistent. Of course I felt it, but he said something first…
“What…” I questioned.
“You know what.”
I wanted him to say it. Say it. I begged him in my head.
“We just stared into each other souls on that one… J”
We laughed. It was true.
He always made me laugh.
There’s really only one word to describe him and I together when it came to intimacy. Passionate. He said once to me: “you kiss me so passionately…”
It made me smile, but it wasn’t something I noticed until I recollected our time spent together. I realized what he meant when he said that, was really that when I kissed him – I meant it.
I know I’m getting off topic –sorry - It’s just that there’s so much to say…
So,… It is possible that he is like that with every girl. Not just me. I am aware of this, and obviously, I wouldn’t know… but it’s hard to feign a meaningful look, a carefully placed kiss on the forehead, or intimate fingertip contact. Not impossible, but hard. Maybe he was just that good after so many years of “practice” – or maybe he actually meant the things he said to me. I am circumspect when considering his intentions. Setting that aside, I will get back to the story…
Our bedroom escapades somewhat blur together if you ask me. The ecstasy this man provided me was like nothing else I have experienced in a long time. Possibly ever. Well, not so soon anyways – and definitely not with such a limited range of “experiences”. I’ve never let my guard down so rapidly – and never actually *gave a shit* after such short time spent together.
What you have to understand is that I honestly thought it was different with him. From the VERY first conversation we *clicked*. We just seemed to get each other, and always be right on the same damn page about everything: what was fun, what we felt like doing, what was acceptable, what wasn’t, life, family, morals, food, music, humor, people, the man and woman’s role, money, $3200 luggage. That being said, I’ve gotten along with, and clicked, with others – for sure – but not like this. Not quite like this one. He was different. I was excited to give him and I a chance and see if we could soar…. And that just doesn’t happen to me.
After the passion and seriousness in the bedroom after the game,… We were kissing and touching and once more, felt like we were teenagers J before we fell asleep, he told me he wanted to see where this would go – and that there wasn’t going to be anyone else. In turn, I told him the same and promised to open up.
By then I had given up trying to hide the fact that I had let my guard down, and that I cared about him. I clung to him (which is not normal for me), but he liked it… or he said he did… and I wanted to make him happy. Several times throughout the weekend, he would be sitting next to me and I would look over at him. Those times my body held complete disregard for what my head was screaming, and I would find myself straddling his lap, with my chest pressed against his, resting my head on his weighty shoulder. Each time he would kiss my neck and shoulders, and place his hands on my back – gently rubbing it. Our bodies fit together perfectly. These were the best moments my entire time with him. It was in those moments he made me feel safe, and cared about. Like we had been together for years. Entangled and warm. Comfortable and easy.
The next morning, I stayed all day while he – once again – had to leave. He asked me to stay until he got back. I obliged, and awaited his return. We had a serious discussion, then relived our “glory” days like we were 15, before he walked me to my car. He kissed me several times, then I got in my car and drove away.
That night, the next day, and the Wednesday that followed – I will not discuss here. Our story is too beautiful to ruin. I will say that for me, it was not a happy ending.
Ours was a beautiful journey with a confused, twisted ending. We’ll see where the path takes us, I suppose.
Again I state boldly…
I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know this:
I loved my stolen weekend, and if it were up to me? I would never give it back.
