coaxed in an awful imitation.
His eyelids reflected the toll from these past months of mediation and recent hours of wine. The corners of his mouth turned in a slow, engaging smile, and I couldn’t help but go to him.
He pressed me into the heat of his body, and I suddenly felt too warm. Looking up to check if the ceiling fan was on, I waited impatiently for cool air to be pushed down on top of us.
Alex lay back on the bed, still cradling me in his arms.
Staring over him in the dim light of a side lamp, my tired eyes traced along the path of faint, yet emerging, lines etched around his equally tired eyes. They’d become a permanent reminder of his ever-smiling face, and I wished–even after all of these years together-that I could absorb some of his contentment.
The peace flowing through his muscular body became more than desirable to me. I craved it much like a junkie craves the next hit of a drug.
As I leaned against him with my palm resting on his steadily beating heart, he lifted his hand to brush dirty blonde locks from my eyes.
I wanted him.
But I wanted his happiness more.
He had given me so much ...everything he possibly could. And yet I still wanted more.
I lightly brushed my lips across his. And he kissed me back, gently at first. He was kind and patient and thoughtful, and yet I knew what was to come.
Still waters run deep , I secretly smiled in anticipation.
He lifted my body on top of his, roughly this time, determined to bring me closer. And I eagerly complied. I wanted to be closer, too. Because although my desire for him was nothing new, I became terrified to realize I needed him tonight.
More than ever.
I wanted Alex to remind me why I loved him so much. But I needed him to erase the sorrow that unfairly opened a part of my heart I believed had been closed and healed forever.
ritual
The alarm offensively filled our bedroom, and Alex stubbornly hit the snooze button. As usual, it was programmed to “radio mode,” and the pop tune that came on for a mere two seconds would become incessantly branded into my subconscious for the next twenty-four hours.
He’d habitually press it three more times. And though Alex would fall asleep for each subsequent 8-minute interval, I would not.
I never did.
Why couldn’t he let me peacefully sleep those extra minutes and hit the snooze once like it was intended? It was a rare pet peeve of mine but a daily one, nonetheless.
Typically, my too-awake body would get up before the second round of dance party made its appearance, but today I couldn’t move. Sore muscles hinted at a difficult night of sleep, and I felt anything but rested.
A dull, yet throbbing, ache coursed through the entire right side of my neck and shoulder. And despite numerous attempts, my heavy eyelids refused to stay open. Though I possessed no true memory of it, their inflamed edges gave me the distinct sensation I cried sometime during the night.
Even when I willed it to rise, my body didn’t oblige. Fully aggravated now, I pushed up on my elbows, and a piercing twinge in the center of my shoulder blades forced me to land hard upon the bed.
Alex shifted in response to the weight of my body, but within a miraculous millisecond he was snoring again.
How the hell does he do that ? I griped. On a good day, I couldn’t fall back asleep so soundly once I was awake. Whether it be a random noise, one of the kids, or the scheduled alarm, my mind would inevitably take over even if my body begged for rest.
Pushing through the hurt, I sat along the bedside, convincing myself these were natural maladies for a woman my age. What’s more, I knew the pain wasn’t debilitating enough to infringe on my work.
Today held a full agenda-deadline to meet, yard sale items to price, overnight bag to pack, soccer meet to watch, and then dinner with the kids and parents before finally driving to
His eyelids reflected the toll from these past months of mediation and recent hours of wine. The corners of his mouth turned in a slow, engaging smile, and I couldn’t help but go to him.
He pressed me into the heat of his body, and I suddenly felt too warm. Looking up to check if the ceiling fan was on, I waited impatiently for cool air to be pushed down on top of us.
Alex lay back on the bed, still cradling me in his arms.
Staring over him in the dim light of a side lamp, my tired eyes traced along the path of faint, yet emerging, lines etched around his equally tired eyes. They’d become a permanent reminder of his ever-smiling face, and I wished–even after all of these years together-that I could absorb some of his contentment.
The peace flowing through his muscular body became more than desirable to me. I craved it much like a junkie craves the next hit of a drug.
As I leaned against him with my palm resting on his steadily beating heart, he lifted his hand to brush dirty blonde locks from my eyes.
I wanted him.
But I wanted his happiness more.
He had given me so much ...everything he possibly could. And yet I still wanted more.
I lightly brushed my lips across his. And he kissed me back, gently at first. He was kind and patient and thoughtful, and yet I knew what was to come.
Still waters run deep , I secretly smiled in anticipation.
He lifted my body on top of his, roughly this time, determined to bring me closer. And I eagerly complied. I wanted to be closer, too. Because although my desire for him was nothing new, I became terrified to realize I needed him tonight.
More than ever.
I wanted Alex to remind me why I loved him so much. But I needed him to erase the sorrow that unfairly opened a part of my heart I believed had been closed and healed forever.
ritual
The alarm offensively filled our bedroom, and Alex stubbornly hit the snooze button. As usual, it was programmed to “radio mode,” and the pop tune that came on for a mere two seconds would become incessantly branded into my subconscious for the next twenty-four hours.
He’d habitually press it three more times. And though Alex would fall asleep for each subsequent 8-minute interval, I would not.
I never did.
Why couldn’t he let me peacefully sleep those extra minutes and hit the snooze once like it was intended? It was a rare pet peeve of mine but a daily one, nonetheless.
Typically, my too-awake body would get up before the second round of dance party made its appearance, but today I couldn’t move. Sore muscles hinted at a difficult night of sleep, and I felt anything but rested.
A dull, yet throbbing, ache coursed through the entire right side of my neck and shoulder. And despite numerous attempts, my heavy eyelids refused to stay open. Though I possessed no true memory of it, their inflamed edges gave me the distinct sensation I cried sometime during the night.
Even when I willed it to rise, my body didn’t oblige. Fully aggravated now, I pushed up on my elbows, and a piercing twinge in the center of my shoulder blades forced me to land hard upon the bed.
Alex shifted in response to the weight of my body, but within a miraculous millisecond he was snoring again.
How the hell does he do that ? I griped. On a good day, I couldn’t fall back asleep so soundly once I was awake. Whether it be a random noise, one of the kids, or the scheduled alarm, my mind would inevitably take over even if my body begged for rest.
Pushing through the hurt, I sat along the bedside, convincing myself these were natural maladies for a woman my age. What’s more, I knew the pain wasn’t debilitating enough to infringe on my work.
Today held a full agenda-deadline to meet, yard sale items to price, overnight bag to pack, soccer meet to watch, and then dinner with the kids and parents before finally driving to
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