Life happens to me in-between. I don’t like sex as much as I like the kisses and strokes that lead to it. Anticipation is my happy place. But lately there has been a shift. Uncertainty scares me as much as mediocrity.
About
a decade ago, my Father used to work out of town. I remember a time when I
waited for his arrival every day for about 3 days, not knowing the exact day of
his arrival. I never asked my Mother too but I just stood by the edge of the
stairs looking out the street hoping the next car that appears is him. It was a
celebration every time he came home. But the goodbyes were more intense. Today
I wonder how my Mother coped with the parting.
Because
I think I am in dire need of the same. I don’t know a lot of things lately. I
don’t know if my assumptions are true. I tell him that he has changed. He doesn’t
deny it but he tells me all the right things and he means it. I think he is going
to leave the city for work reasons and I find myself fighting the urge to tell
him every day how much I want him to stay. But I have always been the good
girlfriend, I’ve always understood. It has always come easy, with good food.
