I didn’t know that I wanted to bed Sully the first time we met for a drink. But I knew the moment I kissed him and wanted to drink from his lips as if I were dying of thirst, that I had wandered out of my comfortable backyard into someone else’s, and that I may not return home.
It began with the pounding of my heart, the searing heat in the pit of my stomach – the ache and throbbing between my legs and for a moment I was lost to all that held me grounded and sane and reasonable. My reserves turned to dust. I was no longer prim and proper – I stood in his arms throbbing with sexuality ready to do everything I swore I would never do.
Sully and I became lovers on an evening reminiscent to those when I showed up at Kenny’s door and would spend our time fervently trying to find places that we could hide in each other - as if we knew that time was not on our side.
After trying to schedule time to meet and finding the times didn’t work, “Is tonight too late?” Sully asked.
In Jen’s rule book, I should have pretended to be too busy to see him at a moment's notice. But I am not one to put pleasure on hold, nor do I put off for tomorrow what I can have today. Tomorrow may not come.
“When can you get here?” I asked.
He showed up at my door less than an hour later and in seconds I was in his arms –lost again in that place I discovered the day I tip-toed to accept his kiss.
I remember the way he reached for my tits and my lips consecutively – the way he grabbed my hair when he kissed me – lifting his shirt over his head and pressing my lips to his skin – leading him to my bed – my naked body pressed against his – the moment he penetrated me. And after we came, the laying around part - the part when we look at each other and share things and expose not just our private parts but ourselves. For the rest of my life, there is a snap-shot in time when Sully was mine and I his – for a moment.
“You had a booty-call?” Jen asked, looking horrified. She tends to forget sometimes that she is sleeping with a married man.
I giggled. “Yes. And it was awesome,”
“So what now?” she wanted to know.
“What now what?”
“Where is this going?”
“Why does it have to go anywhere? Why can’t it just be what it is? Why can’t we just enjoy each other and let the relationship play out in its own way in its own time – that’s how it’s going to happen anyway. Every story plays out - even if the story ends in death without warning. That’s the story,”
She shook her head. “Remember Kenny? You had the same attitude. You have to stop living for moments, Kitten. You have to start thinking that things will last,”
“For how long?” I asked.
“Forever. Until death,”
“How long is that?” I asked.
She stared at me without answering. Some questions don’t have an answer.
“What if I tell you that I loved Kenny entirely in our moments, for at some point along the way, I realized that I was going to lose him anyway? And when I say moment, Jen, understand that some moments can last five hours, others fifty years. Kenny and I lasted a long time, it's all still a snapshot in time,”
“I don’t understand a lot of what you say,”
G.K. Chesterton says, “The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.” I would add that it will be lost.
Nothing ever stays the same – not even love. Time eventually turns us to dust and the wind comes along and blows away our bones. The one-hundred year old man was once a baby. Change is the one true constant in life. Some of us jump on the next train out when things fall apart, and some sit and stare at the closed door and miss the open ones. I’d spent a long time staring at the closed door of a relationship that left me. I am no longer pondering if I should cross the bridge – I did. I look back now and all I see is fog where it used to be – what I do have are the memories that I've chosen to take with me, stitched under my skin.
“In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take, the relationships we were afraid to have and the decisions we waited too long to make,” ~Unknown~