MARCH ’16 MIX.
As we sit up after a moment of rare lost ecstasy, backs straight against the couch, we take notice of what is around us. The smells, the sounds, the weird itches on the outside of your right thigh that you only notice at times like this. You are conscious of your posture, I am too. We profess our hesitancies and proclaim our merit, our value. You make mention of how I’ve changed you. We explore where this is heading.
I admire your earnestness, your heart and everything inside seeping out your sleeve, out there for the world to see. You suggest that I could learn a thing or two from you. “I have” I replied.
With some quick fleeting resolve, I blurt out that “we need to look after each other. Better.” This was the exact thing you had yelled at me weeks earlier as you slammed the front door and left for your parents place. The very fact that I just parroted it back at you wasn’t lost on me.
Still on the couch, you pull your pants back up. I stand up to get my shirt that you threw all the way over to the other side of the room. You didn’t do anything in halves. I had always enjoyed that about you. Slowly buttoning my shirt back up, I meander back to the couch. I sit down and turn to you. You kiss me, the first in what was forever.
We both stand up, and slowly put the rest of our clothes back on in silence. We’ll speak, at various points through the rest of the day. We’ll speak about everything else, all the time waiting again for that moment of fleeting resolve.
…
Miks
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