Chronicles of Confusion

I will wait till the end of time to decide whether he wants me or not...

  Time isn’t what ages a person – people do; the emotions they evoke.  I’m 23 according to the amount of years I have been on this earth, but my heart and soul feel as though I am over 50 already.

  There are still times when I look to the people in my past for a place to cast the blame.  Parents; teachers; class-mates; ‘friends’; men – they all are to blame for my having aged so rapidly.  That was until two years ago – 2006.  That was when I met him and over a short period of time went from 21 to 90.  He alone is responsible for my downhill slide in life.

  The day I met him I knew I had to have him.  I didn’t care if it was a casual ‘one-nighter’ or something more.  At that moment anyway.  Over the coming months I was delighted to see him more often.  I had fallen for those bright blue eyes; that ‘gentleman’s charm’.  Yes, I had fallen deeply.  And when he winked at me I just melted.  I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is wink and smile at me, and the world was a better place.

  After a couple of months – somewhere around June 2007 – I took a chance and it paid off.  One night we stayed up chatting, admitting our attractions to one another.  “This is it,” I remember thinking.  “My one chance with a sexy 36 year old, blue-eyed hunk.”  But then he threw a spanner in the works – “I want this to be more than just sex.  I want it to be so much more.”  His words threw me completely off track.  Had he (possibly the hottest man I have ever come across) just implied that he wants to start a relationship with me?  Could it really be?  I was eager to find out.

  The next night I went to his place.  I had the most amazing time.  He is an even better lover than I could ever have imagined!  He had me in the kitchen; in the lounge; in the bedroom.  Oh my God!

  Things were okay between us after that.  I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it sure wasn’t great.  I didn’t feel like him and I were in any sort of a relationship, but I stuck it out regardless.

  A couple of weeks down the line I had a huge scare, but the pregnancy test showed negative.  Before I had taken the test I puzzled over my emotions.  After a discussion that he and I had had, I knew that he wanted a child.  The thought that I might be carrying his child was a somewhat pleasing one.  Actually, it was the most amazing feeling in the world.  I began thinking of how I was going to tell him; thinking of ways I was going to deal with it.  Then I began panicking – what was I going to tell my family; how would I handle it if he said he didn’t want the child or me for that matter?  I started thinking about how people at work would look at me; how they would react to me.  I started going crazy!  Drove myself up the freaking wall!!!  But then I did the test – negative.  A part of my heart fell.  Yeah, I was disappointed.  I had come to like the idea of bearing this man’s child (and this from the girl who swore she would never even consider having children)…

  Another month passed.  We saw each other another couple of times, but it had more of a fling feeling than that of a relationship.  I got worried when I skipped another visit from the “lady and her goddamn red Ferrari” (I always knew I hated Ferraris for a reason).  I started going downhill in a fall of depression.  Was I really pregnant this time?  After the first test, although a big part of me was disappointed, another like-sized part of me was relieved.  But now I sat with the predicament again.  How was I going to tell him?  We hadn’t really spoken in the traditional way that people in a relationship would and therefore I hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him.  But I had to this time.  And when I did, I felt my heart crack in several places – “Get rid of it.  I’m not ready to be a dad”.  I couldn’t believe what he had just said!  I had based my whole future on what his response would be.  But I didn’t expect that!  Ok, so maybe his exact words weren’t “get rid of it”, but to my already injured heart, it might as well have been.

  Having made the decision (one I had to make, but still hate myself for), I got a second pregnancy test and cried at the result – positive.  Oh God, I was pregnant!  I knew it was coming, but how?!  How could I possibly have something – someone – growing inside of me???  I slid further down the hill of depression, not knowing if it was to become a cliff with a sharp drop into an endless pit or if there was a beautiful valley waiting at the bottom for me.

  After he had asked me to ‘deal with it’, I phoned around to get the telephone number for the abortion clinic.  I had to make a booking and it would cost a sum of money that I could not afford just then.  I let him know, and he said I should make the booking – he would give me the money.  So I did.  My appointment was for August 22^nd 2007 at 10 am.

  I have never been so scared in my life (and I’ve been through some unnecessary and horrible things in my short existence).  A part of me wished that he would have at least come with me, even if only for ten minutes, you know, just to make me feel like everything was alright.  But needless to say, he didn’t.  But at least he let me text him like every five minutes which was little, but at least some consolation. 

  The process was a long and tedious one.  I was so glad I had taken a book to read.  The first woman I had spoken to when I needed to find out the cost and everything had told me it was a quickish process.  But when I spoke to another one when I phoned to make an official booking, she told me it would be at least a 4 to 5 hour thing.  I nearly fell off my bed (where I had been sitting on the edge, wishing it had been a cliff).

  When the nurse did the scan to make sure that I was indeed 9 or more weeks pregnant (they prefer to not do abortions on a foetus less than 9 weeks old) it turned out that I was 9 weeks and six days pregnant.  I couldn’t believe it!  I had been carrying a little someone in me for 2 and a half months?  And I didn’t even show.  Not one bit.  The only inkling that I had, other than not being visited that month (again), was the nausea which accompanies pregnancy.  But it didn’t feel like it was Morning Sickness or anything.  See, I have had this stomach ulcer type thing that flares up every now and then and makes me feel so nauseous.  So I didn’t think anything more of it – “oh it’s just the ulcer”.

  Once it was my turn to go for the actual ‘deed’ (so to speak), I was more scared than I have ever been in my entire existence.  I took out my Eeyore teddy and hugged it so tight.  I didn’t care what the nurses may have been thinking – I was scared and I needed the comfort!

  I had the choice of being put under conscious sedation or going without.  Because I had no one on whom I could rely to take me to the clinic and had to drive myself to and from there, I had to do it without.  As well as being the scariest moment of my life, it was also the most painful.  I could not believe just how painful it was to have a child removed from within me.  But I guess it makes sense.  I mean, they were literally scraping the foetus off my womb.  I’m going cold just thinking about it.  For many reasons though:   1) I still can’t believe that I gave up my child; 2) I can’t believe just how painful the procedure was (and I’m hoping I never have to go through that sort of pain ever again); 3) I still, to this day, can’t believe that I [a] gave up my child for this man and [b] went through that amount of pain for him.  Did I really believe that if I had done this MAJOR thing for him that he would appreciate me and see me as a person?  Maybe even respect and love me?  The worst part is that the answer is actually yes.

  Although he had promised to be there for me following the abortion, he never was.  He ignored every attempt I had made to contact him and I died a bit more each passing hour.  I had wanted to believe so wholly in his earlier words that I failed to notice that he wanted nothing more to do with me.  I was so desperate for him to want me that I ended up blaming myself for everything – I had obviously done/said something wrong; I was the one who stupidly fell pregnant, etc.

  It was the day before I left for the coast on holiday with my parents.  “Please drive safely,” he had said in that sweet, ‘I care deeply about your wellbeing’ tone.  And by glory, I fell for it!  I believed that maybe he had had a change of heart or something.  Stupid, naïve little girl.  The whole trip down I sat in the back seat, pillow wrapped up snugly in my arms.  I had to squeeze the pillow so tight to stop myself from crying (not that it worked).  I just kept pretending that I was asleep to avoid any questions that my parents might have asked.

  On the way down I kept rubbing my tummy (something I still do every so often), imagining that my baby was still growing in there.  Although it had been too early to see if it had been a girl or a boy, I had made up my mind that it would have been a girl – Samantha.  Anyway, the more I stroked my belly, the more I realised what I had lost – my child; the man I was in love with; and in turn, my life.  I had nothing left to live for.  And as I lay on my bed staring out at the raging sea, I knew what I had to do.  Yes, it was simple – I would just take a stroll into the ocean.  One of four things could happen: I could drown out in the distance; I could get eaten by sharks; I could be thrown by the climbing waves onto the jagged rocks; or I could be swept back onto the shore (being night, no one would be around to help me).  Either way, I guess I would have won.  I would be out of this miserable, lonely, sickening life.

  That was the night I felt deader than I have ever felt before.  It was frightening!  I mean, I did feel, but nothing like what I’ve been used to.  I lay there listening to the rampant waves crashing onto the beach, crying.  My heart felt so hollow.  It felt as if someone had scooped out all its contents and put the empty shell back inside.  It ached, but in a numb sort of way.  Like when you’ve been holding onto something cold for a long period of time and it starts to burn.  Something like that.  I began writing what turned out to be like a diary entry.  It was my call for help (not that I would let anyone actually read it).  I made a decision that night – even though I was down (lower than I ever remember being), I wasn’t ready to die.  This is a battle I have been having with myself since a very young age, but never has it been quite as real as it was that night in September of 2007.

  When we got back to the city I decided to get in touch with Colin, a psychologist I had been to in 2004.  I just kept hoping that he hadn’t changed his number in the last 3 years.  Thankfully, he hadn’t.  I made an appointment to see him, and have been seeing him since.

  In the months to come, parts of me died slowly.  My sister-in-law was pregnant with their second child and gave birth to Ambrin on the 6^th of September 2007.  While babysitting him one weekend, I couldn’t help but cry.  I kept wondering how my little angel would have looked.  Would she have her daddy’s bright blue eyes; my cat-grey (greenish) eyes; or a mixture of the two?  I wondered if she’d have his smile.  He really does have a gorgeous smile.  I still wonder if she would’ve been a complete daddy’s girl (which I’m pretty sure she would’ve been!).

  As the weeks continued, I was still very unsure of what I was meant to be feeling.  Things got a bit better between him and I but in a strange sort of way.  In November 2007, I got a text message just after 8pm saying that he was lonely and wanted company.  I said I would be happy to oblige.  While driving there, he sent another message – “Will you be my mistress?”  I remember thinking “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, but replied, “For as long as you want me,” and asked why.  His reply both confused and hurt me – “That’s all I can offer.”  He said I would always have to be ‘the other woman’.  I didn’t know what to do; what to say.  So I just continued to his place, my heart’s pieces trailing the way back home.

  I think what hurt me the most, was the fact that I had originally only wanted this to be a fling (maybe a casual get together ever now and then), you know, a ‘no-strings-attached’ thing, but he said he wanted more.  And I fell for it.  Now he turns around and says that I will always just have to be his little substitute.  It was a bit late to tell me this because my heart had already fallen in love with him and had begun to need him.  And then there was the matter of my (our) child.  How could he have asked me to give it up and then just leave me to sink down in this pit of despair?  But still I went.  Still I loved every second of being with him.  Still I fell deeper.

  The last couple of months of 2007 were alright.  He had gone to Russia for a couple of weeks and when he got back, I was SO excited.  He looked so relaxed; so rejuvenated; so sexy.  I tried my luck, asking if I could see him that evening, and he agreed to it!  I was ecstatic!!!!  It had only been a two-and-a-half week trip, but I had missed him terribly!

  We had an awesome time together.  Things were different, but in a good way.  He made dinner and we actually spoke a bit (which we had never done before).  It was great!  The talking didn’t last long after dinner, but what did I care?  I was with the man I was (still) deeply in love with.  Nothing else in the world mattered!!!!!

  2008 came and I still had no idea where things were between him and I.  And with February nearing, my depression skyrocketed.  I kept rubbing my tummy and thinking, “Any week now.  Any week.”  But of course, that was never going to happen.  It didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.  Nothing could.

  Come the week of Valentine’s Day (from Thursday 14 February to Friday 22 February), I had dropped so deeply into the dark, seemingly endless pit of depression.  Samantha would have been born sometime that week.  Worst part?  My birthday is on the 18^th of February – I could’ve had a little birthday present.  Oh how I cried; how I fell; how I died.

  I remember the day of my birthday and it ended up being a nice one (considering).  He came into my office and gave me a big hug and kiss for my birthday.  It meant a lot to me.  And he seemed genuine enough.  For the rest of the day I kept touching my lips remember the feel of his lips on mine.  I had never been as obsessed and addicted to someone as I was to this man.  At that moment I had forgotten all about the past and just held on to the emotions I was feeling just then.  He had done it again!  Yes, he had managed to worm his way into my heart; making himself at home in my mind.  But I didn’t mind – it had always been open for him.

  For some reason, the months from February until July are a blur.  I kind of remember getting to the point where I had told Colin that I want nothing more to do with my baby’s dad (my knight in shining armour - as I had once called him – which turned out to just be a loser in tinfoil).  We had done this whole (for lack of a better description) ‘cleansing ritual’ where I tore up a picture I had of him and ‘released’ any feelings I had towards him (love; hate; anger; everything).  It worked for about a week, but then he walked passed me and winked at me, those blue eyes shining.  That did it – I was putty in his hands.  To this day I do not know how he does it.  What had been a completely numb heart towards him, just filled with love again.

  One morning in July when I had just gotten in to work, he called me to his office and asked me for some help.  It was a simple process ultimately, but ended up being a very long, drawn-out one.  We started the job at 7.30am and only finished it at 8.15pm.  There were many interruptions in between – phone calls; quick lunch; and my having to drop my mom off at home because we had come in one car.

  Before I left, he asked if I would be able to help out at 6am the next morning or if it would be easier if we continued that night.  I explained that I wasn’t much of a morning person and that that night would be fine.  We agreed to meet at his place at 6pm.

  It was purely a work job (I had made that distinction in my head – I wasn’t not going to cross the professional/personal boundary that night).  But he made the most amazing roast lamb dinner for us and he bought me a bottle of Sangria (he always goes out of his way to make me feel comfortable and welcome).  After dinner, it was straight back to work.

  Once we had finally completed the job at hand, I got up and took my stuff off the table, getting ready to leave.  I saw the disappointed look on his face, but I had made my decision.  I gave him a hug and said that we should be proud of ourselves – we worked hard.  As I hugged tighter, I felt him getting excited.  That has to be my favourite thing about a man.  I just love knowing that I can turn him on with even just a hug.

  When I got to the door, I turned back and kissed him lightly on the lips.  I smiled as I watched him savouring the moment with his eyes closed.  I had made my impression on him.  Of that I was sure.

  As I neared home, I sent him a text message – “I would have if you had asked.”  I knew that something as simple, and yet so ambiguous, as that would get his attention.  “Would have what?” he replied.  I said that he knew exactly what I was talking about.  “And if I ask now?”  I laughed – I knew my man well.  “I’m a block from home, so not tonight. Maybe another time.”  He seemed keen…

  Come August, the company decided that they needed someone with a bit more training and passion for the accounts department and hired someone to take my place.  I didn’t mind so much – I had gotten so sick of numbers!  But I knew (as did they) that the company just would not be the same without me, and created a new position for me to take.  I was rather excited.  I got to be a personal assistant to 2 of the company directors – him being one of them.

  Things became interesting (although partially boring).  Although these 2 directors are the busiest of all the directors in our company, they never seem to have anything for me to do.  Which, in its own way, it rather cool – I have a lot of spare time to write or study – but it does become tiresome when I am not in the mood to do either.

  In September he was to go away on a fishing trip to the coast and he need someone to house-sit (and in turn, puppy-sit) and asked if I would be interested in doing so.  I was only too happy to oblige!  This was a big thing for me!  It meant that he trusts me; I love his dogs; I had the opportunity to get away from my parents for a week; and on top of that, I had my OWN place!

  It was during that week that I felt myself slipping further and further into his clutches.  The Thursday before he left for his trip, I went ‘round for him to show me just what he wants me to do.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was meant to be feeling, so I went with the attitude that this is just business.

  He walked me around the house, just showing how everything works, and so on.  Once he had finished explaining everything, we went back into the kitchen where our glasses of wine were waiting.  I stood with my back to the counter as he continued to talk to me.  Suddenly he moved closer and wrapped his arms around me, “Thank you for doing this.  I really appreciate it.”  I smiled as I hugged him back and said that I was just glad that he trusted me enough.  “You’re the only person I trust 100%.”  That I found hard to believe, but I just smiled and buried my head into his chest.

  Offering to give him a back rub took us to the bedroom.  He took off his pants and shirt and lay on his stomach.  I began lightly massaging his back, changing technique and the amount of pressure used as I went along.  He enjoyed that.  Kept saying that I was spoiling him.  I told him that I do special things for special people.  He wrapped his arm around my leg and squeezed affectionately.

  While just waiting for the opportunity to turn around, he took the gap when his one dog, Milo, began barking.  Now lying on his back, I traced my nails across his chest and stomach.  He always has enjoyed being pampered with something as simple as that.  I felt his body tense as I traced my fingers downward.  Then I began gently kissing him from his chest downwards.  His breathing became heavier as I made my way across his body.  I knew what he wanted, and was only too happy to indulge in the moment.

  As I shifted and began kissing my way back up his body, he said the words I was hoping for - “I want you.”  “Really?” had been my reply as I stood up to slowly take my clothes off.  He watched in eager anticipation as each item was removed until I was standing naked in front of him.  He ran his hands across my tattoos which are seductively positioned low on each hip.  “You’re beautiful,” he said.  I just smiled naughtily and got onto the bed beside him.

  I got a phone call or text message every day that he was gone, just checking up on his pups and to see if I was alright.  It was awesome.  Some of the messages I got made me the happiest ever!  It felt like something was actually going on between us.  It was awesome!  There were a lot of messages that said he missed me and even some that said he ‘wanted’ me.  But the three messages that made me the happiest (and most excited) were the ones that said 1) that he wants me to be his girl; 2) that said him and I should have a child; 3) that said he loves me.  Now, knowing what happened in the past, I was very cautious in believing it.  I replied to the ‘him wanting me to be his girl’ thing by saying “for as long as you want me” and he replied, “Forever”.  With the baby thing I asked him if he was serious and he said that he was.  Even told me to get off the pill.  There was no way that I was going to do this if there was even a hint of uncertainty.  But there wasn’t.  Not one bit.  I was still not going to go off the pill until we had spoken face to face about it – I know better than that by now.  As for the “I love you” part, I told him I love him too.  And boy, do I. 

  A couple of mornings later I got a text saying ‘good morning’ and that he missed me, and wanted to make love to me right then.  I couldn’t help but smile.  For me, that was the moment where I felt I could believe that he wanted something from this.  Before, I had always just been an easy ‘f**k’.  But now he was talking about making love to me!  Big move!  Anyway, as the conversation continued, he asked if I was still on the pill and I just replied, “Do you want me to be?”  That way I didn’t give away the fact that I was still not quite sure that he was sure he wanted this, and I could find out whether or not he was sure.  “Yes, I think it will be far less stressful for us if we don’t have to worry.”  I was relieved and disappointed at the reply.  I had began to like the idea (again) of having this man’s child.  I would LOVE to start a family with him!  I had spent the days before looking for names that would go well with his last name.  I actually found a heck of a lot that I really liked.  But I was relieved that he said I shouldn’t go off the pill, because I would not be able to give up a second child had he asked me to.  I couldn’t!  I wouldn’t!

  When he got back from his trip, I didn’t get a chance to see him until the Monday at work.  I had missed him so much.  I just wanted to run up to him and hug him!  He had only been there for a day and had decided to join my other director on a trip to the coast for a conference.  That meant he needed me to puppy-sit the Wednesday as he was going down for the Wednesday and Thursday, although the conference was a 3 day event.

  We had arranged that I would wait for him to get back from the airport Thursday evening because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to see him for another week otherwise (I was going on holiday the next week).   I went out and bought us some wine and pizza because I was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten and wouldn’t want to cook at 8pm.  Anyway, when he got home, both the pups and I leaped off the couch to greet him.  He looked so hot!  I couldn’t take my eyes off him (not that I can on a normal day)!  Once he had greeted the dogs and poured himself a glass of wine, he turned to me, wrapping me in his arms.  I love being in his arms so much!  It feels like that is where I belong.  While still holding me, he kissed my hair and whispered, “I want to make love to you.”  Then, taking my hand, he led me to the room saying, “Come, my baby.  Let’s go make love.”  I couldn’t stop smiling!  This was it!  That was the moment when I really, really, really felt that he meant it this time!!!!!!

  When we were getting dressed he said he’d invite me over the following week for a nice dinner.  I reminded him that 1) I was probably still going to be on leave; and 2) he had a Directors’ meeting that Friday.  He then said that I could come over the following Thursday.

  The night before I left for holiday, he sent a message saying, “Please drive safely tomorrow” and asked that I let him know when we were there.  Things felt a bit weird when I had sent him the message – it was like he didn’t really want to hear from me.  I tried to pretend that it didn’t bother me, but deep inside it ate me up.  Had I fallen for his stupid trick again?  I just couldn’t believe that I could possibly be that stupid; that naïve; that in love…

  Once I had gotten back, it seemed like everything was okay.  Well, like the okay before he had said he loves me.  In other words, this was a work relationship.  I tried to suck up my pride and just play along, but I found it hard.  I decided that it was my right to contact him and just hoped that he would respond.  He did.  And that alone means a lot!  I had just asked how his weekend was going, and he responded, “Hey babes.  Got family over.  Will text you tomorrow xxx”  I felt better after reading the first two words!  If he was still calling me babe, that meant he still likes me right?

  Saturday the 27^th of September was the big re-opening of one of the shopping malls we manage and so a few of the staff members decided it was a team-thing and went down to support the event.  It was great.  I had never been to any of our malls so it was nice to finally see our hard-work in front of me.

  My mom and I walked around and soon found a few familiar faces.  We spoke for a couple of minutes, and then went separate ways to explore the mall.  It wasn’t long before we ran into him.  I had never seen him over a weekend, and the butterflies that filled my tummy were just unexplainable!  He didn’t look any different, but my God, did he look sexy.  I had seen him in casual clothes many-a-time, but I never tired of seeing him in them (I never tire of seeing him, period).

  The day went on and all the directors grouped together while the rest of us just wandered around.  When the ‘Strong-Man’ contest took place, I watched him from across the circle.  I couldn’t help myself – I just wanted to stare at him constantly.  I couldn’t believe just how in love I felt at that moment.  Then a thought occurred to me:  I’m like a stalker.  I mean, I know where he is most of the time (I have access to his diary); I know where he lives; I know his dogs…  The only thing I don’t know is whether or not there is milk in the fridge.  J  But you know what?  I am obsessed with this guy!  I am absolutely smitten!  He is like this drug that I NEED to have; I HAVE to have; one I’d die without!  But each time our eyes met across the crowds, I lowered mine and smiled shyly…

  When things had calmed down a bit at the mall, my mom and I decided it was time to go.  The directors had decided to sit down and grab a bite to eat.  As we wandered around the final bits of the mall, he saw us and waved us over to where they had been sitting, inviting us to sit with them.  We declined saying that it was a long drive home and that I was not feeling well (which was true – I had the flu).  While my mom explained, him and I just stared at each other, completely lost in each other’s eyes.  I loved it.  I could spend every moment of my life just staring into those blue eyes.

  This week has been trying.  On Monday I sent him a text message once I had left work asking if it was still alright for me to come over on Thursday.  When I didn’t get a reply, I felt my heart sink.  It kind of cracked a bit more than it already was.  I had used so much duct-tape to try and keep my heart from finally falling to pieces that I had begun to run out of tape.

  For the rest of the evening I beat myself up for ever thinking that things could ever be ‘right’ between us.  I was so down.  And then, as I was settling into bed around 9.45pm, my phone went off to let me know that a message had arrived.  At first I thought it was my cousin, but when I saw it was him, I smiled.  The message was short and very much to the point, “OK.”  I thought I’d play dumb and just see what his reaction would be, and sent him a question mark.  He replied, “Thursday.”  I just sent back, “Awesome!  Thanks.”  That was all I needed to mend my heart again.  I felt all the cuts begin to close and heal.  Why is it so easy for me to be hurt by him, and then so easy for me to forgive and love him again?  I don’t know what it is, but I am crazy about this man and I will sit on the edge of my lonely cliff until he is ready to take my hand and lead me away from it.

  The rest of the week was alright.  He was out to meetings most of the time, so there weren’t too many good moments, but there weren’t many awkward ones either.  When Thursday arrived, I wasn’t feeling too confident that he wanted to see me, but there were other things bringing me down too.  I had prepared myself to send him a message just after 3pm (because we can’t speak about ‘us’ at the office) asking what time I should come ‘round.  But before I even had the chance, he called me into his office at around 1.30pm, just before leaving the office for the day.  “Will it be okay if you come over on Monday instead?”  A part of my heart fell – I had been looking forward to spending time with him.  “I guess it’ll have to be,” I said, my tone a mixture of sadness and sarcasm.  He explained that he wasn’t feeling well and that he wanted to get into bed early to rest – “Don’t want to take the risk of a relapse.”  I tried to smile, but the hurt drowned out my attempt.  I said that I hope he feels better and walked out of his office.

  After I had sat and brewed in my misery for a while, I had to smile.  I mean, he actually took the time to speak to me to my face.  Usually he would just send a text saying that it was problematic that evening.  I admired him for that.  And then even later on, once my heart had settled, I felt bad about the way I had responded to him.  I mean, he had at least offered another day and not just cancelled on me.  While driving home, I sent him a text just saying, “Hey Sweetie.  I hope you have a super evening.  Sorry if I was a bit offish earlier.  Was just really looking forward to spending time with you tonight.  Just hope you feel better!”  His reply made me relax a lot and really made me smile – “Thanks babes.  I look forward to Monday!”  I told him that I did too.

  Today was a good day.  It was a long one, but good none-the-less.  Even though he wasn’t feeling well, his blue eyes still twinkled when he spoke to me.  Oh how I wish I could wake up to his gorgeous face and sexy blue eyes every morning!  That would make my life near perfect!

  Although I am really looking forward to Monday, a part of me knows not to keep my hopes up – things always change.  I guess I just have to learn to be patient and let Life take the course it chooses.  If there is one thing I have learnt, it’s that Love comes at its own will, not mine.

 

Copyright©JosieWentzel03October2008

 

Reviews

[Sean M. Addams]

very interesting piece... i really enjoyed reading this and thought it was well done... nice job on this one!!!!