06.02.02
One more day
My writing is becoming stagnant. I just don't have time to think about new ways to say things.
Friday night: I got home. Got into my mother's car, pushed a cd into the stereo and headed out for Pugwash. I arrived an hour and a bit later, to a half drunk Zach, and laughed at him. We drove home together, in the darkness of country roads. He climbed into the seat behind me, and kissed my neck, pushed his hands down my pants, bit my ears, while I tried to concentrate on not driving the car right into the ditch.
And we got home, here, to Stellarton. He sat with me while I filled myself on Cheerios. Then dressed me in my new bikini as the tub filled with water just because he wanted to take it off later.
Sometimes I wonder what it is about him, what makes me feel so desperately in love with him. The way his eyes darken when he's thinking, the shape of his mouth when he wants to kiss me. His muscular body as he sat in the tub with me. The little boy inside of him I want to take out and hug and love and hold because his mother never did. And most importantly, his mind. The way he watches people, what he thinks, how he loves me, tells me I don't know how beautiful I am. The way my skin lights on fire the second he touches me, the fun sex, the slow sex, the sweet making love.
We talk about the future. Sat in the sand yesterday and talked about us, and other people. And then once we arrived in pugwash, I was scared by the thunder, lightening and hail, so I climbed into his bed with him, for one more sleep together.
Today friend's of my parents are having Liam and I over for lunch, then I'm taking a bus back to Halifax. The goodbyes aren't as hard as they were two weekends ago, but they do make me tired.
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