I had a lovely night with my lover last night.
I hadn’t seen him since December.
He said I looked beautiful.
He always says that.
We talked of humanity, selfishness and changing moods.
I was talking about him, I think he knew.
He is not really selfish, he is a good man, who doesn’t know what he wants.
I wish for his sake he would figure it out.
Poor chap!
I wanted to hold his hand, but I didn’t.
I sat there, with my toes pointing towards him, and he sat there with his toes pointing at the wall.
He looked at me in a way I like, but don’t know how to describe.
He did this briefly, more than once.
I think he watched me walk away.
With my long black backless dress hugging my small body.
I knew I looked good, better than good.
I knew he thought so too.
He doesn’t like to maintain eye contact for too long.
He looked at me for a lingering moment, more than once.
I run my fingers through his hair.
I drove him home.
I think I was a little drunk, I’d had one drink.
I don’t drink often.
I left the car running,
I didn’t think he wanted a long goodbye.
I hate leaving cars running.
It’s irresponsible.
He held me, that’s the best way to explain it.
He held onto me.
Not in a possessive way, not as though he needed nor wanted me to be his.
He held me as though he cared about me,
enjoyed me, wanted me, in a non-possessive way, that still meant something.
We stayed holding each other for a long time.
Then he pulled away, and I pulled away.
Then he pulled me back to him.
And he kissed my cheek, it was lingering, like he wanted to breathe me in.
Take a piece of me with him, to remember me by, until next time.
But each time I see him is the last time I’ll see him to me.
How can he not realise that he takes me with him wherever he goes?
Because I am always with him.
I do not love him, I don’t know if I ever could love someone so unattainable.
I do desire him, I am fond of him.
I take him with me, wherever I go.
I have an obsequious desire for him.
