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Breakups, Lessons Learned, Healing PLEASE do not use this forum for ugliness or nasty posts. |
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#11 |
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I am her North and she is my Star. Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: Northampton, MA
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Peace is the new pattern to my weekend.
A pair of my boxer briefs and some old sweater from the back of my closet become the sexiest lingerie on her. Faint threads of her perfume on my pillow when I settle into bed. She curls against me while she sleeps. I feel assaulted by a visceral response to the innocent warmth of her against me in the dark. I'm compelled to reach for her. Anticipation for the soft, sleepy sounds she makes as I wake her. Laying in bed, awake, eyes closed, mentally tracing her steps through the house based on the sound and smells of her Sunday morning ritual - fire place first, espresso maker next. Sunday NYT thumping onto my chair; metal scoop digging into a bin of black sunflower seeds near the side door; the patter of them filling the feeders and being scattered across the ground. Door closing quickly against the cold. The chime of a spoon stirring milk into her coffee. Creak of the cedar chest hinges as she pulls out that ancient quilt my grandmother made. Going downstairs quietly as I can. Hoping to catch sight of her settling into her new "habitat". I find her on the sun porch, wrapped up against the cold because the heat from the fire place rarely reaches back here. She cradles her favorite cup, a book left open by her side as she watches the Phoebes and Cardinals vie for the breakfast she left them. Her green eyes shift at the sound of me at the doorway. Some energy no one else gets to share slips away as I come into the room. She watches my face. Hesitation. She looks, waits, to see if some unwanted change has come to destroy this new world while she was sleeping. I make a silent promise, every time I see that look, that I won't ever sabotage her that way. Finding nothing to be afraid of she smiles that slow, crooked smile. Can't resist tugging her onto my lap, greedy for the warmth of her and the blanket. Kissing her until I'm ready to do something else. Maybe the day never progresses past this point. Who cares? It's Sunday. These are the sounds of our life - finally together.
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