has no title, is in progress... (standard:other, 248 words)
Author: Rosa	Added: Apr 30 2008	Views/Reads: 3370/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
musings on him being gone...

...and i'm sitting here wishing i was a better typist, so i could keep
up with my head, as i would with a pen(though lately, i find the pen 
has nothing to say to me.  At least not with the lyrical raping it once 
held...)  i sit here in my Domesticness, all aglow with Christmas and 
Seinfeld. And scented candles. And the dryer. And the sleeping child, 
and well, i'm thinkin'..."i'm still sexy, right?"    He's at the office 
party.  He will be sweet and wonderful and drunk when he comes home.  
He will slide his hands up my sides, and i will drift somewhere between 
righteous indignation, and euphoric delight at this man.  Kid myself, i 
do not; i question the future.  I challenge my faith several times a 
day, and still i find it remarkable that it is still there and burning. 
Granted, it is not always a furious flame, but it is flame no less.  He 
confessed his questioning of himself, and again surprised me with how 
in sync we are, but forget to tell each other.  All the experts in the 
world are absolutely correct when they say communication is key if your 
relationship is to survive.  He suits me.  i love this man.  It is a 
secure and safe place.  The kind of trust that exists without your 
knowing the definition of trust; this is a feeling that has no name.  
And i seethe inside at the simple fact that he isn't home yet... 


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