In Between Days
Gaps and distance are appearing now in our dating. Work, summer colds, time off.
It's actually bitter sweet, on one level I find myself missing her dearly. So much so that the very wonderful memory of even just the scent of her body shows up like a phantom at times, out of nowhere. It's a lucious experience, like a long ago memory of entering a confectionary shop as a child. Or, more like a light wash of a lawn sprinkler on a hot summers day, brings back the delicious scent of getting caught in a suddenly heavy, late august shower in Stanley park.
These tiny little specks of memory spur me on to daydreaming of her. Thinking of her and her beautiful body so often at those moments I wonder occasionally what people possibly think at work or out in the streets, of the long away looks, and content smile I sense I have plastered on my face during those times.
Not having any real time experience of her, during the distant moments. No in the moment, physical, viseral action and response that leads invariably to fantastic sex and that incredible experience inside myself of feeling truly male. It's so easy to fall into a cascade of fantasy about being with her. With that, all thease other fantasies of being with other women, from the past return. Now completely recast with her as the object of my desire.
Those old fantasies, some of them going back to junior high are really incredible. And I'll get to enjoy them either by telling her about them, and how she figures in them now. Or, I'll get to keep them to myself as lustful secret desires about her, as long as I want.... During those in between days
Gaps and distance are appearing now in our dating. Work, summer colds, time off.
It's actually bitter sweet, on one level I find myself missing her dearly. So much so that the very wonderful memory of even just the scent of her body shows up like a phantom at times, out of nowhere. It's a lucious experience, like a long ago memory of entering a confectionary shop as a child. Or, more like a light wash of a lawn sprinkler on a hot summers day, brings back the delicious scent of getting caught in a suddenly heavy, late august shower in Stanley park.
These tiny little specks of memory spur me on to daydreaming of her. Thinking of her and her beautiful body so often at those moments I wonder occasionally what people possibly think at work or out in the streets, of the long away looks, and content smile I sense I have plastered on my face during those times.
Not having any real time experience of her, during the distant moments. No in the moment, physical, viseral action and response that leads invariably to fantastic sex and that incredible experience inside myself of feeling truly male. It's so easy to fall into a cascade of fantasy about being with her. With that, all thease other fantasies of being with other women, from the past return. Now completely recast with her as the object of my desire.
Those old fantasies, some of them going back to junior high are really incredible. And I'll get to enjoy them either by telling her about them, and how she figures in them now. Or, I'll get to keep them to myself as lustful secret desires about her, as long as I want.... During those in between days