He made us stir-fry, vegetables and rice. Instead of sitting at the dining room table, we sat on the sofa. He acted the same he usually did with me... playfully nudging me and winking at me while we ate. But for the most part, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts, and I was wrapped up in mine. He asked if I felt like watching a movie, and I said that I didn't. He said he didn't either.
When we were both finished with dinner he put our plates in the sink. He walked over to where I was sitting on the sofa, and held out his hand. I put my hand in his, and he lead me to the bedroom.
At first, I felt slightly upset. The last thing on my mind was sex that night after what I had been through, and I felt I would lose it if he expressed in any way that that was what he wanted.
We awkwardly undressed. He took off his clothes, leaving on his boxers, and I took off my dress leaving on the chemise that was under it. He gripped my hips and pulled me close to him, kissing me with the same passion reminiscent of what I thought had been our first kiss outside Trader Joe's. The one that disoriented me and made my heart beat wildly. I was just as disoriented and my heart beat just as wildly now.
What was that about no sex for two weeks? Ah, fuck it.
He smiled as if he heard my thought, clearly pleased with himself.
He slipped under the covers of the bed, and patted the side next to him with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. Such a playful boy. I slipped into bed next to him, on my side so that we were facing the same direction and "spooning"... our favorite position. He held me tightly close to him, playing with my hair and giving me little kisses on my neck and shoulders. Not even a minute passed before I could feel him and knew he was ready for anything. I missed him, and wanted him like I always did. So I lifted up my chemise and reached behind me to guide him. But he surprised me... gently grasping my hand and wrapping his arm around me, cuddling me instead.
He then proceeded to tell me stories... things I thought never registered with him. Little things that we had said to each other over the years, moments I thought seemed too simple to remember. Things that made us laugh, and cry...but mostly laugh. He squeezed my hand and held me closer.
"We have to remember these things", he whispered. "Because no one else will."
He talked about the night I grabbed him in the kitchen and completely had my way with him. He joked that the bruises didn't bother him one bit, and that he was actually sad to see them fade away.
Eventually we drifted off to sleep.
At around 2am, I felt that he was no longer next to me. I opened my eyes to find him at the edge of the bed sobbing. I had seen tears in his eyes before, but had never seen him shaking and crying as hard as he was. I felt a strong need to go over to him and hold him in my arms. But I also didn't want to take his "man card" away from him... I didn't know how he would feel having me comforting him for once. So I didn't... but I regret it. Maybe doing so would have brought us closer than we were, and I would not have resorted to what I was about to do.
That was the last evening we really spent together. But in the weeks following... I got to know him more than I ever had. It was an amazing couple of weeks. A glimpse of a side of him I hadn't yet gotten to know, and don't know if I would have otherwise.
When that was over, I felt like I lost him again. I went through all the emotions I had gone through after he stopped calling me. It wasn't exactly like breaking up twice with the same person... the first time nothing was said and it was just a gradual assumed ending. The second time was worse... because I understood him more... I knew the person he really was and I was even more in love with him than I had been for the past several years. And the cut off of communication was abrupt... like slamming the breaks on a speeding car.
I think back to that time and I am still amazed by the labrynth in my possession. The completed puzzle of the man I love. This detective had solved her biggest and most important case. I laugh at the humor in which we expressed often painful things...but I mostly find myself in awe of him and the special gift I was given. And so very much in love, with no end in sight.
I realized that part of really loving someone is accepting them for who they are, completely and without question. Not forcing them to, or hoping that they will change. If one feels they have to do that... then the love is not meant to be. Molding someone into the person you want them to be will cause them to disappear... and sometimes they will disappear assuming that you could never accept them 100%. I had the strange experience of getting to know him in a completely different way. He was so much more than I had assumed he was. And I realized that we were more alike than I ever imagined... and our desires and dreams were uniquely the same. If I had it to do all over again knowing everything I know now... I would never let him go, nor would I ever have to. I would know how to make him happy... and I would never doubt myself, when it came to him, ever again.
©Carrie-Ellen as Kat Matheson, 2009-2011, Picker Penguin Press
No comments:
Post a Comment