Peanut Butter Paradise
“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.” -- Tom Robbins
Staring out the passenger window on my way back to the bus station, I could hardly believe that this trip was over already. How is it possible that time away from work slips by so much faster than time at work? Why do the moments with those you care most about seem so short and infrequent?
As some of kind of sick self-torture, I enjoy making promises to myself that I know I won't keep. Like my New Year's resolution, or the idea that I wouldn't sleep with him until penance had been paid, security was established, and understanding had been reached.
We slept together long before any of my self-made promises could be accomplished, just as I knew that we would. But it wasn't until the last few hours together that I felt at ease. Despite the childishness of the expression, I truly meant it when I said that sleeping with him makes my heart hurt. I don't think there's any more eloquent way to say it; the response is so basic that language desperately fails to capture even a portion of it.
The last time we slept together, just a short while before I left, was a needed reminder of the reason we stay. I often forget it, but it has a way of making itself known at the appropriate time. I shan't say too much more about it for fear of vulgarizing a pure memory, but I will say that it was probably the best time I've had in nearly a year.
It's amazing to me how easily a little good can overshadow so much bad. It's also amazing how quickly things turn from Lollipop Lane in Fantasy Land back to the mean streets of Reality.
Even before the weekend I had asked him not to come to my birthday party. At the time, it seemed like the right move to make--if you're single, you should act single; especially on your birthday. It probably still is the right decision. Now, and perhaps ever since I uttered the words, I secretly hope that I'll head out to my party and find him standing outside my door. Forget everything else. On this day, at this moment, there is no one else I want to spend it with.
Staring out the passenger window on my way back to the bus station, I could hardly believe that this trip was over already. How is it possible that time away from work slips by so much faster than time at work? Why do the moments with those you care most about seem so short and infrequent?
As some of kind of sick self-torture, I enjoy making promises to myself that I know I won't keep. Like my New Year's resolution, or the idea that I wouldn't sleep with him until penance had been paid, security was established, and understanding had been reached.
We slept together long before any of my self-made promises could be accomplished, just as I knew that we would. But it wasn't until the last few hours together that I felt at ease. Despite the childishness of the expression, I truly meant it when I said that sleeping with him makes my heart hurt. I don't think there's any more eloquent way to say it; the response is so basic that language desperately fails to capture even a portion of it.
The last time we slept together, just a short while before I left, was a needed reminder of the reason we stay. I often forget it, but it has a way of making itself known at the appropriate time. I shan't say too much more about it for fear of vulgarizing a pure memory, but I will say that it was probably the best time I've had in nearly a year.
It's amazing to me how easily a little good can overshadow so much bad. It's also amazing how quickly things turn from Lollipop Lane in Fantasy Land back to the mean streets of Reality.
Even before the weekend I had asked him not to come to my birthday party. At the time, it seemed like the right move to make--if you're single, you should act single; especially on your birthday. It probably still is the right decision. Now, and perhaps ever since I uttered the words, I secretly hope that I'll head out to my party and find him standing outside my door. Forget everything else. On this day, at this moment, there is no one else I want to spend it with.
posted by The Husskateer at 11:26 PM
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