|
Wednesday, Feb. 22, 2006 / 9:34 p.m. ~Already, It's Killing Me~ I can't maintain it, the enthusiasm, the excitement, the passion for anything. Like Gladys sleeping in her round bed for weeks, then suddenly shifting, changing to the one with the self-heating leopard skin print pad in the living room, I am shifting from one newly found, newly discovered best thing ever, to another, or rather I am enthused to a boiling point of enthusiasm, and I bubble over the edges until nothing is left. I've boiled and bubbled dry. I am excited, I am thrilled, and I take it as far as it can go, in my head I have sex with him, I lie on my side and feel him reach his arm around me to pull me close, and we do it all again in the morning, we can't get enough, he wants me to quit my job, he wants me to move in with him, his passions become my own, we travel to the Caribbean together, and he shows me all his favorite haunts. I am enthralled, I am completely satisfied and captivated. He moves me, he loves me, he wants me, I am all he needs, he finds me fascinating, and the feeling could not be more mutual. We both find ourselves wondering where we've been all our lives, and why did it take this long to find each other. And then I wake up and realize I've only seen three pictures, read four or five messages/notes, and his online profile. I have no real idea of who he is, of how it would be to sit next to him, breathe him in, look into his eyes and feel whatever there is to feel. I don't know what chemistry, what pheromones, what analyzing in person there is to be done, what conversations, what arguments, what debates, how long before I reach to touch him in heated, passionate diatribe, how long before I can only think of lying next to him, skin to skin, or if nothing will come of any of this. I do this, I take it as far as I can until I come back exhausted. And then I doubt it all, then I take it all back, then I tell myself it won't work, it never will, this is never meant to be, I've accepted this, what curse to fool me into thinking it's possible, what game the fickle fingers of fate are playing with me now, how cruel a joke this is to make me feel so happy, so alive, so totally unable to wait for the future to begin, when I know and all that is omnipotent and omniscient knows that this is not meant to be. It's wrong, it won't work, it can't, I'm not what he wants, he's not what I want. Hell, he doesn't even watch "Survivor". It would never work. But oh, how I want it to, how he has become the dream man, the one who fulfills me in every way, the one who can make me come in an instant, the one who makes me laugh, the one who teaches me something new every day, the one who constantly surprises me, and the one who turns me on to the point that I want to sex him every time I look at him. I'm filled with desire for this man, and I nearly told him exactly that, made the first move after he confessed I make his heart beat faster, and I am beautiful, he thinks, but he does not know this, he knows nothing yet, and neither do I, but I think we both are feeling something of the same. And really, it's killing me. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |