distance' relationship. My avid fans, let's face it, seeing each other only once a week for nearly a month, no matter how long and intense the meetings may be, a relationship does not make... at least, not yet. Despite that, it has officially been established that we are 'seeing each other.' So we are not quite at full-blown relationship, but not quasi either. Wednesday night was the actual last night I spent with Transformer, at least until he is back in the country, which will be September. This time around, we actually did a movie night with the whole cozy-couple-canoodling-on-the-couch and receiving-a-back-massage-as-I-cozy-further-into-my-nook-between-his-arm-and-chest. So, regardless of the hours spent in front of the mirror telling myself not to be such a horndog around Transformer, my defences drop the moment I see him – consequently, the other shoe drops, too. At this point, our attempts to make our meeting PG-13 (hence, Cars as the movie of choice) were futile since we were having one of those “You had me at, ‘Hello’” moments.
By Thursday morning, after yet another long night of copulation (eat your heart out, Samantha Jones), I realized how easily I had become comfortable with Transformer. Waking up in his arms the morning after feels just right, much
less finding his hand holding mine, or worse, a playful and ticklish kiss on the back of my neck as a wake-up call. My fears of not being able to feel that way again have certainly been quelled, and perhaps I am not as jaded as I thought I had become. Nonetheless, it does not help that this epiphany comes at the heels of Transformer’s departure for the summer. So, you can understand my confusion with the cosmos. Why let me meet this guy now? Why couldn’t I have met him when there is more time for us? And damn it, why is he the only one that has rightly earned my friends’ approval? It was one of those mornings when you find yourself dragging your heels to whatever the day has prepared for you – well, technically, whatever you had prepared for the
day, but I digress. Despite Transformer’s observation that he should leave early, lest he lie in bed with me until 3 in the afternoon again, our shower was longer and hotter than usual (and I’m referring to more than the water). To add insult to injury, he found himself sticking around for breakfast, and even a bit more to canoodle in the living room, and by then an hour and a half had managed to pass. It seems that with every meeting, we manage to get trapped in our own bubble and have the world pass us by. When your heart is fluttering like that of a cracked-out junkie, ignoring the clocks hands seems oh-so-natural. Alas, the inevitable end to our snuggle-fest arrived, and just as usual, the walk to his car could not have been any shorter. And there, in the rain-soaked pavement of the parking lot, we dragged our heels and mentioned the unmentionables: I’ll-miss-you, Have-fun, When-will-I-see-you-again, even if saying all those things only made this departure harder. And that is when he took me, with
a dip and kiss (how romantic, indeed). But, this moment could not have been any more unique to us if it had not been followed with, “You were supposed to hook your leg around my leg.” So, with a laugh, we finally had our Hollywood Kiss, and no such kiss could ever have tasted any sweeter (eat your heart out, Carrie Bradshaw).
No comments:
Post a Comment