Five Years

Mood: Alive and Content
Music: Come Together - The Beatles
Date/Time: Friday, 26th June, 2009/11:39AM

Disclaimer: this piece has graphic images and cursing. If you know this is going to offend you, don't bother to read and then complain...you have been warned.

I completed this piece on Tuesday, 24th March, 2009.
Prior to this, I've only shared it on facebook. I rarely share my writing outside my immediate social circle mostly because a lot of writing is based on things that have happened in my life. Not all my pieces are non-fiction but since my writing style is confessional - a lot of my pieces contain elements or experiences from my life.

Photo Credit: April's Fools: Five Years and Counting; Date of photo unavailable

Five Years

I don’t sleep well, this is a documented fact – however, I admit that the best sleep I’ve had in years – was in your arms.
It’s hard to admit this, to know that after a few hours of intensely passionate love-making; I collapsed in your arms, and woke up with a smile on my face. I hadn’t slept long, but the quality of sleep was refreshing, and for the first time in a long time – there were no bad dreams to push back as the fog of sleep left me.

I woke up, with a smile. I sighed quietly and rolled over and looked at you. I felt so incredibly safe knowing that your entire body was wrapped around mine. You woke up, did that cute thing you do with your forehead, and asked “was I snoring?”

I had to laugh on the inside, it amazes me that you have no idea how incredibly sexy you are. When you walk around my bedroom, and I check you out, I know you feel my gaze. You feel self-conscious, I know. I wish you could see what I see. I see 6 feet and 3 inches of honey caramel perfection. I see a body sculpted by years of swimming and rugby, and bronzed by countless Sundays at the beach. I see that tattoo on your chest, the design that my fingers are instinctively drawn to – my play thing as you lay on top of me, and my legs hug your lower body. I see that brooding and pensive nature you have – that comes across as quietness. I see that you observe, listen and speak only when you deem it important enough. I see that you are more intense than you let on, and what must be an incredibly deep thought process that goes on behind those eyes, those eyes that are always watching. I see that you restrain yourself, whether it is out of fear, necessity or both.
I see what you don’t see.

I don’t care if you have that little beer belly, I think it’s sweet. All I see are your well-toned legs that move smoothly into your well-toned ass, which gives way to your muscular back. That very back I grasped just hours before, and screamed the dirtiest of phrases into your ears. Yes, phrases, because I can’t construct sentences when you’re inside of me. It’s either an obscenity, or a religious epithet.
Sadly, I think you like my moments of crudity and get harder when I blaspheme.

It’s not just about the physical; I know that you and I have nothing in common, save our love of music. Different family life, different upbringings, different interests, different social circles…but I have never cared about that. In my eyes you were never a fling or a fuck, you were always, dare I say, a man to love.
I know in the past you think you weren’t worthy of me, and now in the present – you are too preoccupied to see that you can have me.
I am just a girl, standing before a boy she wants, willing him to want her in return.

I have waited years to lay with you, and every time I do, I wonder why I wasted all these years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds…
I asked you if the fantasy matched up to the reality, you admitted that the reality of me surpassed your expectations. I asked if it was worth waiting for 5 years, and you said you would have waited a decade. That endeared me to you. When I was 18, you were inaccessible and now as I turn 24 you are still not mine.

Everyone has that person in their life, that person that comes and goes throughout the years, the one that didn’t get away because they were never yours to begin with.
You are my blessing and my curse. So I will cast away my clichés and leave our next meeting to chance. I just hope next time I see you; we will both be free, single and disengaged.

And for the record, yes you were snoring, but I didn’t really care.

-END-