I was tired this morning and I’m not sure why as I slept well. Maybe it’s all the overthinking – that has to take up some energy.
He came, we cuddled. In those moments, just lying there as I often am, you really relish the soft touch of his lips on your cheek; the strength of his arms around you or the sensual touch of bare feet on bare feet. It’s my favourite time, even if there was no love-making, like this morning.
After breakfast, I showered and then we took another stroll on his roof terrace. The sun was bright and warm and I love chatting with him up there. He told me we would be going to his city that afternoon.
We’ve been to the city about three times across my trips. Today though, we did more of the touristy things. Being a Friday, a lot of the shops and market stalls were closed, but enough were open to make it enjoyable – more so because with less stalls and less people, you could really get a feel for the place. We saw three of the main historical and architectural wonders his city is famed for and we took some beautiful pictures. It was good to be out in the sunshine too.
I was surprised and really touched when he bought me some beautiful leather sandals from the market and enjoyed watching the sunset as we drove home. Stopping to buy my favourite fruit from a farmer on the way home- even though they were expensive – was also a kind thought.
We were soon home and eating a delicious dinner. His parents soon went to bed but, unlike last night, there was no tension or undecision of what to do. It was my last night so we were staying up.
Not long after his parents left, I leant over his knees and asked for kiss. Then I told him I needed one. Either way, I didn’t get. He was engrossed in deleting old photos from his Google account making room for the beautiful photos we had taken that day. Being the high-maintenance craze-pot that I am, I of course was a little nettled by that. There was a little banter back and forth and eventually the phone was put down and the teasing commenced. Like the previous night, he would beckon me forward and, when I did, would exclaim that I misunderstood. After a while and under threat of me sitting back down in my place at his feet, he took to holding me there by my clothes or hair, an amused gleam to his eye (which I will freely admit now that I love) and a smile on his face.
Never to be outdone or skimp on the jesting, round two involved him pressing his lips together most invitingly for a kiss, then moving away when I tried. I’d ‘give up’, he’d hold me in place and then it would start again.
Round three was war of the noses. He’d let me close enough so our noses touched but that’s it. Amusing yes. Frustrating, ridiculously. Enough so…you guessed it by this point I emotionally couldn’t see the funny side and as ‘this is the last evening you will have time kiss me for 5 months’ screamed through my head, obliterating all sense and reason, I started to cry. AGAIN.
At this, he pushed his lips to mine and his kisses were…out of this world. He was generally shocked by my crying AGAIN, I can’t understand why, as that it pretty much all I’ve done. He asked, did I not like his playing? Which I replied, I did, but I guess the blubbering mess of my face suggested otherwise. I told him I loved him and then,
“Do you hate me?’ One because he had every right to and two, because that was what he said to me most of all – his way of professing his love in a way that I only know and he can pretend he hasn’t just blurted his heart out.
“No.” His voice was deep and emotion tinged and I lifted my head up in surprise to look at him.
“No? Tell me you love me then.”
And he did, although I didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked away right before the end. So close though.
After more beautiful kisses, I decided I emotionally couldn’t cope any more. I got up and got us both some water. Placing his bottle on his table, I turned to go and saw such a look of pain in his face. He was surprised I was going and looked genuinely hurt. I’ve never, ever seen that look before. I lay back down with him and he held me. He said he didn’t understand me. We hugged, we kissed, and soon it was time for me to go. He didn’t get up to walk me to bed.
I went into my room, sat down, and let it all out. Why do I keep doing this? Why do I ruin everything? He’d be better off without me.
After a moment, I went to the bathroom to clean up but then I went back to him.
He made room and I held him. He said again, “I don’t know why you do that. Why do you cry every night?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not good for you.”
“OK.. so..” and that was all he said. He buried his face into my neck and we just held each other, his sentence unfinished…mine missing.
Before long, he roused enough to tell me to go to bed. He walked me to my door, kissed me, and said he loved me.
I didn’t sleep well, as usual. I woke a number of times, full of self loathing and fear. I’d never seen him so hurt before, so dejected. What could I say? How can I explain?
At 4.30am, I admitted defeat and went to the bathroom. As I walked through the hallway, I thought I heard the TV on from his room, but on the way back it was quiet. I lay back in bed, trying not to imagine he hadn’t wanted me to know he was awake. Either way, I needed to try to sleep.
Within moments though the door opened and he asked me to switch on the lamp. He told me he had had bad dreams and now couldn’t sleep. He crawled into bed beside me, and locked me within his arms. Before long, he was asleep and I lay there, thinking of course.
I barely wanted to move in case he left. Time passed by and eventually, I too fell asleep.