You Don’t Always Get What You Want

When I woke in his arms the next morning I began to worry things would be awkward between us. Would they be uncomfortable? Maybe I better go home today instead of staying another day. I was more nervous about how we would be with one another than I was about the lines I had crossed last night. Now, I was a cheater! I know, I should have been upset, ashamed, disappointed in myself, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t help the way I felt. I knew it was wrong, I knew I should end things with my boyfriend, but for that moment I was not angry with myself.

He began to stir beneath me and let out a quiet “good morning.”

The way he said it I knew things would not be awkward between us and I put my fears to rest. I rolled over to look at him and said, “good morning. Did you sleep well?”

He smiled and pulled himself up to kiss me. “I couldn’t have slept better.”

I grinned at him and leaned back down to get another kiss. God I loved the way his lips felt on mine. But even more, I love the way my body felt each time they touched mine. A surge shot through me, one I cannot describe, but it sent amazing feelings all through my body. If I wasn’t careful, I knew I would become addicted to this drug.

The morning progressed and nothing significant happened, other than me feeling more connected to him than I already did. Everything we did, we did it together. I enjoyed this, but it was a concept I was not used to. Normally if I wanted to do something or needed something done, I did it myself.

As the day went by we spent most of the time outside enjoying the cool weather and talking. We had talked for countless hours over the past few days, but we never ran out of topics. I was able to tell him about things that didn’t matter, but he made me feel like they did, he made me feel important. When I talked to him, he listened. He gave me his total and full attention.

That evening as we went to bed, and yes we went to bed together again, we did not have sex, though I wanted to. However, I could not cross that boundary, and he never pressured me to. The feelings between us that night where more amped up than the night before. I have never felt a want, a need, so deep within me.

At some point I found tears glistening in my eyes. He pulled back from kissing me and softly placed his hand on me cheek, “whats wrong?” he asked.

I couldn’t speak, my emotions where high and I didn’t want to lose control and sob like a child. I smiled at him and stroked his cheek just looking at him, waiting for words. Finally, I had the courage and control I needed to tell him. “I’ve never felt this before.”

He lowered his voice a bit, “felt what?”

The tears slowly streamed down my cheeks and he gently wiped them away. I took a deep breath telling my self to get a hold of it. “I’ve never felt this, this emotional connection with anyone before.”

“Ok,” he said in a sweet voice and I could tell he wasn’t understanding where I was going.

“It’s hard for me to process all these feelings and emotions I have. The way you touch me, I’ve never been touched like that before. The way you kiss me, I’ve never been kissed that way. Everything is new for me. My tears aren’t out of sorrow, they are from happiness.”

He kissed me on my forehead and held me close for a few moments. “It’s different for me too,” he said. “I can’t explain it, it just is.”

We fell asleep in each others arms. His arms … the place I felt most safe, comfortable, and accepted.

When I woke the next morning I had a knot in my stomach. It was time for me to go home, back to my real life. I didn’t want to leave him, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to. Where do we go from here? What now? I still hadn’t heard from my boyfriend. What if I didn’t go home? What If I stay here and start my life over. I half laughed at myself, what a ridiculous thought.

As we ate breakfast neither of use talked much. We knew in just a few hours goodbye was coming. We didn’t want to say it, but sometimes what you want just doesn’t matter.

On the way back to my car he held my hand, but didn’t speak. I was praying my car had been towed, at least that way I would have a few more hours with him. Pulling into the park my heart sank when I seen my car sitting there. I could feel the tears burning my eyes, but I wasn’t going to let them. He pulled into the space next to mine and turned his car off. We sat there, no one saying anything, just looking at one another.

I wanted to speak, I had so much to say, but the sooner someone spoke, the sooner this would end. He began drawing patterns up my arm, something he did all those years ago, and the butterflies in my belly grew. Why was this happening to me? Why was I in such a predicament.

We were both startled by my ringing phone, I dug it out of my purse and saw it was my boyfriend. I opted not to answer it and put it back.

“Guess you should be going. You have a long drive home and I don’t want him to get upset since he suddenly cares,” he said with a strong tone of resentment.

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to say fuck you! He didn’t know my boyfriend, so how dare he judge him, but I knew why he felt that way, I did too.

I leaned over the counsel and rested my head against his shoulder. He softly stroked my hair, and I knew it was over. I had to go home, I was away too long, and behind at work. But I didn’t care about getting back to my boyfriend.

“Darling, if you wait to long it will be dark before you get home. I don’t want to say bye, but I also don’t want you driving at night.”

I lifted my head off his shoulders and our eyes met. The fire between us blazed and I could feel my skin clam up. We just looked at each other and then our mouths met. They came together hard and we kissed each other like teenagers, fierce, fast, and a little sloppy. My body flushed and I wanted him, I wanted him right then and there. I didn’t care who seen, but then he pulled away.

“I don’t want to tell you goodbye,” he said softly,

I leaned over and kissed him again, “I will see you later,” I said. Then I opened the door and got out.

He met me at my car door. “Promise me,” he said.

“Promise what?”

“That you will see me later. Promise me.”

“I promise you I want to,” I told him.

“That isn’t good enough. Promise me you will.” his eyes were beginning to glaze and I feared he may begin to cry.

“I will promise you that I want to see you again.”

“Damn it, why can’t you promise me you will? I love you! I have loved you for over 13 years. Yes, I fucked up, yes I ruined it, but I am here right now trying to make it up to you.”

I angrly wiped the tears off my cheeks that had begun flowing like a waterfall. Why was he doing this? “I want to see you again.”

“That isn’t good enough.”

“I can’t make you a promise,” I started, my temper flaring. “that I do not know if I can keep.”

“Oh I get it!” he said, his temper hotter than mine. “You can’t promise to see me again, the man who truly does love you and care for you. One that would do anything for you. And why not? Oh because of the piece of shit boyfriend you have waiting for you. The one who didn’t call you for two days when you were with a stranger. The one who didn’t give a shit about you when you were hurt. But that is who you must go home to!”

My jaw dropped, I was surprised it had come to this. I guess I didn’t know how everything would play out, but this was a new side of him and it shocked me. I wanted to slap his face, he deserved it, but I was better than that. And as much as I hate to admit it, he was right. Once I regained composure all I could do was mutter a simple, “yes,” and then I got in my car and drove off without another word.


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