A touch that made me hurt
I had a very weird experience a few days ago.
One of my colleagues, not even a friend, just a person whom I meet at parties at our friends’ or in a pub somtimes, has shown certain feelings towards me. Nothing clear. It was a simple touch. He was getting out of a pub and wanted to say goodbye, and he touched my back for two seconds. But it wasn’t a kind of touch that you usually grace your pub colleagues with, it was something that you reserve for a lover.
I felt a surge of weird energy through my body, going right to my fingers and toes, feeling like they’d explode, and I’m not sure it was his energy or mine. I couldn’t ground that energy at the time and I couldn’t save it for later, so I simply had too keep it the way it was and it almost hurt. I didn’t know what to say, and he left very quickly.
Yeah, I had noticed his glances, but I wasn’t sure what they meant. After all I’m married and he knows that perfectly well. And besides, guys simply don’t feel that way about me, because I’m the person they like to have a few beers and talk about movies or photography with, not one of the slender and beautiful women they usually fancy in black laces and high heels.
I feel really weird and don’t know what to do with the fact in order to not hurt that man (no, of course I don’t want to go to bed with him, I’m married, for crying out loud.)
A few hours after this event I had a nightmare about our dog dying, and there was a lot of blood and guts involved; I really want to remember prettier dreams, but somehow I remember the ones like this. This is the way the painful energy gets out or makes itself known.
Five days of pure happiness
I’m trying to take as much energy from his presence, as I can. We make love, talk, walk, hug, make love again, talk again, and so on. I wish it was for more than just five days. I know the pain will come back when he’s gone. I try not to think about it and savour every moment, every word, every breath.
Yearning
Sometimes yearning is almost physical and it almost hurts. Each memory of being close and intimate with him is sweet and painful at the same time. Even more painful is the awareness that the next meeting will be short, and after that I’ll again become cut in two.
It’s good that he’s coming home tomorrow, five days of being close is better than none.
