Sunday, February 2, 2014

My Christmas Morning...

Mr. Selleck was on his way over.

I had decided that this would be our "one last time" goodbye.

I left the downstairs door open for him.

And as usual my heart raced as I heard him walking up the stairs.

My resolve to walk away from Mr. Selleck was fading fast.

The writing on the wall was barely visible.

I felt like I couldn't breathe without him.

He came in the door.

I didn't get up to greet him like I usually do.

I remained seated on the couch.

He walked over, leaned down and kissed me and then sat next to me.

All will was gone.  All resolve was gone. And the wall was blank.

I told him this could be our "one last time" goodbye.

Mr. Selleck agreed but then said that we can't count this time because he couldn't spend the night . He was having dinner with his daughter and had to leave soon.

I agreed that this time wouldn't count.

We made love.

Mr. Selleck left with the plans that he would come over on "our" Wednesday (a night we always spent together) for our "one last time" goodbye.

Later on in the evening, after he left his daughter, he text me to say good night.

He text me the next morning.

I wondered if he had read my letter.

The letter that I slipped into that little, plastic bag of his belongings.

He didn't mention it.

Had he not looked in the bag?

"Our" Wednesday was here. The night of our "one last time" goodbye.

I text him to ask him what time he was coming over.

He text back:

"Wow baby. I just read your letter. I haven't been nice. I am sorry. Are you sure you still want me to come over?"

I wasn't sure what to say.  I wasn't sure if I felt the same way as I did the day I wrote the letter. I secretly wished I could have somehow snuck into his house and stole it back.

But it was too late.

He read it:

"I am looking for my Christmas morning, my Easter Sunday, my 4th of July, my Thanksgiving day...my hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the month and months in the year (42 years right) where I am with the one I think about the most, the one I love with all my heart and the one who is my family.

When we kissed I saw that, when we made love I felt that.

When we had sex whether it was soft and sweet or more erotic, I felt like we were opening up to each other on another level. A level others wished to achieve. 

But what I didn't know was that it was one sided. That you didn't feel the same.

When you came back (and even before then) you lead me to believe you felt the same and I believed you because it all felt so strong. 

No one says the things you did unless you mean it or you are so insecure you wanted to make sure you "had" me. 

And we know you didn't mean it. If you meant it, feelings like that, feelings that strong that should go behind words that strong...feelings like that don't fade in a couple of days or in a couple of weeks. Feelings like that are for keeps. 

I was "this close" to believing in my "meant to be".

But my Christmas morning, my "meant to be" wouldn't be texting another woman in the middle of my living room at 11 o'clock at night.

The only women you should be texting is your sisters, your mother, nieces, in-laws...

I could tell by that smirky smile on your face (which I can't get out of my head) and the way you laughed that you weren't texting any of the above and in that moment I saw you for who you are...and it's none of the things I felt...I've been duped. Feeling a connection that was only on my side. I feel like a fool and I am so hurt that you lead me to believe...

My meant to be...my Christmas morning...my everything...I wish it was you but it's not...and that breaks my heart..."

I stared at his text:

"Wow baby. I just read your letter. I haven't been nice. I am sorry. Are you sure you still want me to come over?"

I text back...

"Yes"

This time when he walked in the door I greeted him.

We didn't really talk.

We kissed passionately as he led me to the bedroom.

As we laid there entangled in each other I said:

"What are we going to do?"

Mr. Selleck put his hand on the side of my head, brushed the hair out of my face, ran his finger down my cheek and said:

"We'll work it out"

That next morning when we woke up in each other arms I knew Mr. Selleck and I were back together.

It all felt so right again...

Until...

Until Christmas morning...


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