Friday, December 4, 2009
You Haunt Me
I walked out the back door of The Wine Country this evening and the second I felt the skin on my bare forearms constrict I knew you would be with me all night; I would not be able to stop thinking about you….wanting you. I’m tortured by thoughts of you, those thoughts that send shivers down my spine, make me ache, make me remember, they are always with me but on a night like tonight, a cold, quiet Friday night…I am consumed by my thoughts of you.
I found myself flipping the station on the radio in the car on my way home, pause for a second or two, hover on a song looking for something, anything that might bring up some other memory, some other feeling, and yearning for some flicker, some tiny spark….something to distract me. I found myself searching for words, phrases, choruses, harmonies…something mindless, less intense, less you, but it only takes one, “I will”, “I want” one, “We” and I am right back in your grasp, bound to you…bound by my need, my ache, my desire for you.
My walk from my car to my apartment feels so long on nights like these, like it is taking me twice as many steps, my bags are bogging me down, my frame too weak to carry my deficient soul…like my desire is weighing on me, my overwhelming want feels tied to each leg like a forty pound brick…each step, agonizing…jarring, a reminder that when I reach my stoop, unlock my door, I won’t find you there. Hopeless, feels so fucking hopeless…my whole body telling me what I need, what will fulfill me, soothe the pulling knots in my tummy, it’s there, just not with me, not tonight, not yet.
I open the door to find my home just as I left it, my piles of magazines left unread, my blanket, the one that warms my feet, snuggles my thighs, is still sitting tossed on the end of the couch where I left it, my unopened mail still waiting for my attention, my wine glass from the night before still sitting on the table. The smells that greet me are the ones I find every night, the ones that remind me that I am home, that old library smell…my home, my safe place, but tonight, tonight I am not safe, not at all comforted by these aromas, they only remind me of what I don’t have, what’s missing…you.
Something about my haze made dealing with the evenings essential needs easy to coast through, get food, pick up the clutter, chat with the neighbors, all things I was able to do but I have no real recollection of really being a part of. I was there, my body and voice were there but me, the real me, the one that has felt you course through her body, well I was off somewhere remembering you, your scent, your touch, the way you feel when you slip beneath my skin…I was with you.
I felt my blinks lasting longer, like I could hold you closer, pull you closer if I could just shut out everything else…no lights, no television, no yet unread magazines, like each second in the darkness of my own body was one more second that was just ours, me with you in our space…I swear I could feel you slipping inside me, I could smell you, taste you…feel you. I wanted, needed, still want and need more….I would wait for no one the way I have and do wait for you. Only you can move me this way, just you…I have others that can fill me, touch me and make me feel amazing, but there is just something about you, haunting…you haunt me.
Your unique brand of seduction, the way you slither around me, the way I can smell you, feel you, days after we have spent a night together, the way I can taste you when I hear your name, only you can do this to me. I feel your fingers tugging at me, pulling me, making me move like some drunk with passion puppet that you can make dance, skip, crumble…all at your hand, only your hand, and when you have finished with me I will pull myself up by my own strings and…be back for more.
Burgundy, why don’t I have more aged red Burgundy at home?! I want, need, ache for more aged Pommard, Volany and Savigny-les-Beaune…damn, I want you.