UrgePosted: March 5, 2016
He had promised He would quit smoking while they were apart. He wasn’t keeping that promise well. He had lost count of how many He had burned since waking at 3am, chain smoking in the 35 degrees of the balcony.
They had been apart for 11 days. It was the longest they had spent away from each other since October when they finally connected, communicated and established their relationship for the long haul.
The plan was for them to be apart for 17 days. She had company, then a conference, then a weekend retreat. They both loved and hated the times apart. They enjoyed the longing. They enjoyed the intensity it bred into their reunions. But they also missed the talk, the laugh, the touch.
He had paced himself. Like a marathon runner He knew if He allowed His mind to dwell on the length of the race, He would have trouble finishing. Longing would become pain. When He found His mind tending to Her, He would quickly distract Himself with work or people. He wanted this to remain the pleasure-pain, the passionate edge.
But Thursday, She had surprised Him. He assumed She would need down time after the hectic weeks She had endured. He was willing to grant Her space whenever She needed it, Her amazing came at the price of Her needing time alone.
She reached out: “Can you come down Sunday evening, after I am home from my retreat?” Days sooner. He was excited they would be together. The thought fired His imagination and His passion.
Last night He allowed Himself an indulgence in anticipation. He took time to dwell on Her. Their shared adventures. Her joy. Her smile. But soon He found His thoughts moving to Her body, their passion. Closing His eyes and feeling Her against Him. Her soft skin beneath His fingertips. Tracing, touching, teasing…
The urge, though willfully suppressed for a week, now burned into full fire. Today He was enjoying the heat of the flame.