My Man

It's more like prose or a burst of emotional snippets of a story

I dream of him. We’re dancing on slow music. He feels right. I feel safe. He has the right touches. His hands are where they should be, holding me tight and tender. He’s a bit taller than me, just enough so I can lean my head on his chest comfortably. He’s strong but he’s not rough. I can tell he’s intoxicated by my perfume, he’s breathing in my skin, my hair. How can I feel so weak when I’m with him? But I don’t feel weak, I feel strong because of him. I lean in closer, he holds me tighter, and then I’m lost.

We’re in bed. My back is to him, he’s holding me. His big hand is holding mine and he’s simply surrounding me. How come I feel beautiful with my back to him? I don’t feel beautiful, I feel radiant, I’m going to shine in the middle of the night like the sun. he holds me and I feel sleepy but I don’t want to sleep because if I do I will lose it, I’ll lose this feeling, I will lose HIM. But I can’t resist, he made me drunk on him. I’ve never felt more comfortable. I’ve never slept better.

Breakfast is ready, time to wake him. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch him sleep. He’s mine? He’s mine! He’s my angel and my baby and my protector. He’s my man. I run my fingers through his hair and kiss him on the cheek. He stirs but I don’t want him to stir. I want him to never be disturbed. He opens his eyes and right then and there he’s just 10 years old, beautiful and innocent, and most of all he’s mine. His eyes are smiling at me and then his lips catch the same cue. My heart stops.

He’s leaving. Life calls, work calls. I know he’ll be back but I’m still afraid. I know he’ll never leave me but I feel so vulnerable when he’s not there. He holds me and kisses me and looks into my soul and smiles. It’s embarrassing that he knows how much I love him. He kisses me again and I’m not embarrassed anymore, and I’m not scared either. He loves me too. He’s leaving and it hurts but he’s given me what I need to go on with the day. I hold my breath until he comes back.

He’s home. I feel like a little girl, I’m so excited. I hold him and kiss him. Poor baby, he’s exhausted. He throws himself into the chair, head falls back, eyes closed, tie undone and sleeves rolled up. I take his shoes off for him, massage his temples, and hold his hands tight. He came back to me and I will take care of him. I run a hot bath for him to relax. Dinner is on the table. We eat. I can’t stop staring at him. He pulls me close and kisses me. I love him. I pull him to bed and hold him until he falls asleep. I love him.

I’m sick. He’s worried. I’m happy and so is he. He’s scared and jumpy. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know he doesn’t need to do anything, except love me, and that he does. He’s holding me more tenderly than ever. I wish I could tell him I’m not going to break. I’m scared too but he will freak out if I show him. But who am I kidding, he already knows. But I trust him and I trust us, and most of all I trust God who has given us this blessing. I’m pregnant.

Author's Note

The first piece of writing I put up for review so please go easy on me :)

Reviews

[Nadia Ayoub]

This is very tender. I think every woman who has been in love can relate to it.