Thursday, warm but bearable
Dearest V
I return, like a ghost to her old house, to our romantic story.
After dinner, and wine, and watching the fireflies in my garden, you said, "Let's go inside." Odd that I, who am so sensitive to double entendres, did not notice this one.
I nodded humbly, and headed for the back door.
Still following, I found myself in my kitchen. You turned, took the glass out of my hand, and hauled me up into your arms. This time, a month or more after our first kiss, I kissed back. Gave as good as I got. Hard.
This time my arms were around your neck. God, it felt good to be there. I hung on for dear life, or death, and gave back every thing you had given me in the months of phone calls and intimacy that had passed between us.
But sense returned somehow, as I whispered, "Can't we talk about this?"
I needed the verbal assurances. The physical ones were plain.
"If we do this it will ruin your life."
In answer, you grabbed me from behind, swept my hair from the side of my neck, and began kissing me again. I found that my body was rubbing up and down yours. Easily, going up on tip toes, first left foot up, then down, then right foot up, and down, leaning in towards you. C the cat.
When you released me, I shot off toward the front of my house. Talk seemed imperative though my body knew what it wanted. You followed, slowly. We sat side by side on the sofa. Silence. You had no words. I had a question.
"What do you want of me?" You always take my questions seriously, whether it is one of the heart or why the toaster is malfunctioning. That alone is reason to love you. Your answer took some time.
"I want to be part of you. Do you understand?"
To join physically, yes, but did you mean in other ways also? Did you want to leave yourself behind, to become part of me? Lose more than the name you are known by? Lose everything? Only later, when I relived this night for the hundredth thousandth time, did I realize that I hadn't understood.