I am a romantic. I wish you'd understand that. Sometimes I think you really should make the effort to figure out what makes me tick and sweep me off of my feet. God, I'm so practical and feet-on-the-ground all of the goddamned time and I just want you to realize that I need you to take of me sometimes. I want you to make me nervous because you've been so sweet and I want to get butterflies and . . .
Fuck.
I would really love for you to take me to dinner and then out to the flight line to let me watch the touch-and-gos. Maybe we'll talk about serious stuff, or maybe we'll laugh a little bit and have some fun. Maybe we'll mess around a little bit. Maybe then we'll come home, sans children and you'll carry me to bed and lay me down and strip me naked and kiss me til I can't breathe and then you'll listen to what I'm not fucking saying and you'll do all of it.
It's mostly because I do so much around this house and I don't really feel appreciated. I've told you this and I feel like still, you don't get it. Just like the tiff about dinner tonight. I don't feel like cooking dinner and I don't want to go out, but God forbid you step up. God forbid you say, "Hey, you've been doing a lot lately," or, "let me make dinner for you." Ugh. Why don't you see it?
Just . . . think about me, for once. All about me. Is that so much?
Showing posts with label the boy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the boy. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Sunday, December 28, 2008
things I felt like saying
I remember how I felt after seeing you, how it felt to go home and lie in that empty bed and wish you were there. I remember your particular smell, and how we had to contort our bodies to have sex in the back seat. There were lunches with friends after school and a few jaunts to St Augustine. We went to the beach once and wrote our names in the sand and then slept curled in your bed like snakes.
There was the smile/smirk that you always got whenever you saw me, and how you'd use your whole body to back me into the wall, just so you could say that there was never any space between us. If there were any two people that were bound to have their first time on a school bus, it was us . . . But I can't tell you how many times since I've fallen in love with you that I wish I would have waited to have my first time with you.
Once, I saw you skateboard. It was one of the first days of Lackawanna, and I was waiting for Mimi back at Wolfson and you rode all the way home on the bus just to ride back on your board. I can't describe how sexy you were to me at that moment, hat on your head, shirt all the way open to show the white undershirt, Dickies riding low like that was how they were meant to be worn.
Too many late night phone calls just because we couldn't bear to be even that much apart. It's lucky we didn't have cell phones, or we would have been on those 24/7, too.
The night we graduated was a Tuesday. I remember that because I was watching JAG while waiting for you to come pick me up. You went to the Rib Shack with your family. I don't remember what we did. You came and got me and we drove around. I was hoping for something more, but I can't tell you what that was. I think we had sex in the usual spot.
We've been apart a lot, haven't we? I've left you at the MEPS, knowing that you were heading off to basic and that I couldn't talk to you for God only knows how long (It was nearly a week or so until a letter came from the other side of the training "compound"). We met again at Sheppard and picked right up where we left off . . . And then we split up once more. You, California-bound. Me for home (horrible without you, btw), and then for the Land of the Rising Sun.
If I could do Yokota all over again, I would. In a heartbeat. No Joey, no Mark, no giving up on you. I would hop a C-130 to come back to you if I could. I'd confront you and do myself some justice.
Had I known that early 2005 was going to change so much, I would have stayed until the crew bus came, and I would have kissed you like you should have been kissed and maybe spent more time talking about things that should have been said earlier. The summer of that same year was awesome, though. I got to fall in love with you all over again.
Except maybe that's the trouble. I don't know that I've really reconciled early you with current you, and sometimes it messes with my head.
I miss irresponsible you.
But I love current you more than early me would have dreamed possible, so I guess it all works out in the end.
There was the smile/smirk that you always got whenever you saw me, and how you'd use your whole body to back me into the wall, just so you could say that there was never any space between us. If there were any two people that were bound to have their first time on a school bus, it was us . . . But I can't tell you how many times since I've fallen in love with you that I wish I would have waited to have my first time with you.
Once, I saw you skateboard. It was one of the first days of Lackawanna, and I was waiting for Mimi back at Wolfson and you rode all the way home on the bus just to ride back on your board. I can't describe how sexy you were to me at that moment, hat on your head, shirt all the way open to show the white undershirt, Dickies riding low like that was how they were meant to be worn.
Too many late night phone calls just because we couldn't bear to be even that much apart. It's lucky we didn't have cell phones, or we would have been on those 24/7, too.
The night we graduated was a Tuesday. I remember that because I was watching JAG while waiting for you to come pick me up. You went to the Rib Shack with your family. I don't remember what we did. You came and got me and we drove around. I was hoping for something more, but I can't tell you what that was. I think we had sex in the usual spot.
We've been apart a lot, haven't we? I've left you at the MEPS, knowing that you were heading off to basic and that I couldn't talk to you for God only knows how long (It was nearly a week or so until a letter came from the other side of the training "compound"). We met again at Sheppard and picked right up where we left off . . . And then we split up once more. You, California-bound. Me for home (horrible without you, btw), and then for the Land of the Rising Sun.
If I could do Yokota all over again, I would. In a heartbeat. No Joey, no Mark, no giving up on you. I would hop a C-130 to come back to you if I could. I'd confront you and do myself some justice.
Had I known that early 2005 was going to change so much, I would have stayed until the crew bus came, and I would have kissed you like you should have been kissed and maybe spent more time talking about things that should have been said earlier. The summer of that same year was awesome, though. I got to fall in love with you all over again.
Except maybe that's the trouble. I don't know that I've really reconciled early you with current you, and sometimes it messes with my head.
I miss irresponsible you.
But I love current you more than early me would have dreamed possible, so I guess it all works out in the end.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
the s-word
I think that you were more attracted to me when we weren't together.
Remember phone sex while I was pregnant? Granted, that was the most used I'd ever felt (you'd get yours and then log off), but I kept coming back for more, because that small amount of contact with you was better than nothing. Fucked up, I know.
When I lived in Japan, we'd have sex every time we saw one another. Now I get that maybe three times a week. I'm not asking for every night, but even foreplay or making out on nights that sex isn't on the menu would be nice. Fuck, just touch me! I feel like you don't want me at all until sex happens. Way to the pregnant wife feel attractive. I don't have a problem with scheduling a little bit of together time, but when you have to do it so that you know when you should get off of WoW, I think that's a little much.
I've been thinking lately about the first time I came to California. I told myself that I was going to play it cool and allow you to make any moves (if there were going to be any). After Samantha and everything else, I figured that was the only way that I was going to know how you felt. We had sex that first afternoon. It was awkward and unfinished, but you made those moves. You touched me first, you took the time to take my clothes off. Hell, you even got on top, and that's saying something.
Do you remember that shower we took together? The one that lasted several hours and it felt like you were taking your time to get to know every little part of me again? And then, once you were done there, you carried me out of the shower, dried me off, and laid me out on the bed and spent even more time finishing what we started.
I'm not asking for that every time, but I would like the same sorts of feeling again. Like you aren't just doing it to get yours, or that you're doing it to shut me up.
Like you care, I guess.
Remember phone sex while I was pregnant? Granted, that was the most used I'd ever felt (you'd get yours and then log off), but I kept coming back for more, because that small amount of contact with you was better than nothing. Fucked up, I know.
When I lived in Japan, we'd have sex every time we saw one another. Now I get that maybe three times a week. I'm not asking for every night, but even foreplay or making out on nights that sex isn't on the menu would be nice. Fuck, just touch me! I feel like you don't want me at all until sex happens. Way to the pregnant wife feel attractive. I don't have a problem with scheduling a little bit of together time, but when you have to do it so that you know when you should get off of WoW, I think that's a little much.
I've been thinking lately about the first time I came to California. I told myself that I was going to play it cool and allow you to make any moves (if there were going to be any). After Samantha and everything else, I figured that was the only way that I was going to know how you felt. We had sex that first afternoon. It was awkward and unfinished, but you made those moves. You touched me first, you took the time to take my clothes off. Hell, you even got on top, and that's saying something.
Do you remember that shower we took together? The one that lasted several hours and it felt like you were taking your time to get to know every little part of me again? And then, once you were done there, you carried me out of the shower, dried me off, and laid me out on the bed and spent even more time finishing what we started.
I'm not asking for that every time, but I would like the same sorts of feeling again. Like you aren't just doing it to get yours, or that you're doing it to shut me up.
Like you care, I guess.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
the boy
this picture is one of my favorite of him, and i didn't even take it. it was given to me by samantha, long after the fact. but this picture demonstrates what i love about the way he used to dress. i love him in a hat (even if it does say AMXS in big red letters), and i love him in one of those t-shirts and jeans and skate shoes. i miss that. i miss it more than i should admit, honestly.
from my pen-to-paper writings:
i miss you in jeans and white t-shirts. i mis your hats and skate shoes. i know that isn't your style anymore, and i'm ok with that, but you just looked so good . . . so at ease. there was also a certain familiarity in the way you acted and moved. i think that's what i miss the most. why, i couldn't tell you. maybe because of the sheer volume of memories that i made with the boy in the gray cargoes and worn out t-shirts. that isn't to say that i don't thoroughly enjoy the man that i married (as they are one and the same), but he takes some getting used to - still, after so long. he's so much more responsible. i know that he should be - he's an adult, after all, with a wife and a daughter and another on the way. he has bills and all of that stuff, but i miss when he was a little bit more reckless. reckless . . . i don't know if that's the word i'm looking for. maybe 'innocent' would work better.
part of it is probably because i missed out on the transformations of you from high school to airman to adult. i don't feel like i've changed at all, and that it's you who has re-engineered who you are, but i'm sure that's just life relative to me. i know that i have changed, i just don't see it because it's me.
i keep telling myself that this too shall pass and that how you dress now versus how you used to dress won't matter, but that seems like a long time in coming.
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