Ashes on the bed  

herotherside 42F
395 posts
4/21/2006 12:16 am
Ashes on the bed

7:28am. That's the time stamp on your message. I wasn't sure how to respond or if I even should, being that I was sitting up on H's bed, he was in the kitchen. I turned off the alerts and after a few minutes of corresponding with you, I found myself conjuring up a lie to make an early escape so I can get home to you.

It's been almost two months since I have been able to say your name out loud without it being followed by name calling and bashing. It's been almost two months since I have been able to hear your voice without releasing my bottled up anger and frustrations I have felt towards you. It's been almost two months since we have actually looked at each other, even when, just friday night, we were sitting side by side, just a few inches apart. It's been almost two months.

I didn't quite understand. Just didn't get it. After the last message I sent you the night before, it made no sense that you would suddenly want to come see me. Ahh, yes, it's you, the con artist. Made a little more sense now.

Within an hour, I was home and you were knocking on my door. How formal for you to knock. You walked in with a Dunkin Donuts box and a sick look on your face. "I ate two Bavarian cremes, two glazed, and a jelly filled. This ones for you. It's a powdered raspberry jelly filled." You put the box in my hands, and right there, right then, all the anger suddenly went into hiding. I looked away and smiled.

Sitting on my bed, as usual, we chained smoked while conversing. This time though, we spoke about some of the things we usually spent most of our time intentionally not talking about. I held back releasing that anger. I calmly told you why I was so upset. You had finally acknowledged what you has resisted to believe. That was all I needed at the moment. That was it. We, in a matter of twelve seconds, had just talked about the issue that came between our friendship. And we moved on. Enough was said.

We went on to a quick fuck, smoked more cigarettes, talked a little more. You left, called, came back, we left, I came back,you called. The con artist in you stuck again. You left me without any toilet paper on the roll, came back and stole another smile, we left each other on good terms, I came back to your scent, and on the other end of the phone, listened to the friend I once had call me "sweetie."

I went back in the bedroom for the ashtray which was till sitting on my bed, wiped the ashes off the bedspread, and just sat there and let time pass. I thought about my morning with you. Although I couldn't tell you, I have missed you so much. I missed the friendship we had. I missed the hours we spent talking and texting about nothing that really mattered out of boredom. I thought about the spilled beers, the lavender massage oil, the ashes you always managed to leave on my comforter. I wished we had not of lost the last two months, but know that here was where our friendship needed to end. I am happy that you and your wife worked things out.

When I went to sleep last night, I pulled the pillow that you were laying on earlier towards me and wrapped my arms around it. I inhaled deeply, kissed you on your cheek, and held you in my arms all night long.

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