Summer Summer Summertime...
He always said if I put weave in my hair I'd see what would happen. Maybe this is that "what would happen" that he promised me.
The past year or so of my life has gone by fairly undocumented so let's start with a story that marks the beginning of the end.
We met, intentions were purely carnal and extremely unattached (me, coming from a laborious and exhausting 2 year long fiasco of a relationship or whatever you'd like to call it, this was only appropriate). It was the newness that attracted me. I loved it, I basked in it. It was new and it was amazing and I could care less about it. Then we evolved and he snowballed into my beautiful surprise. There were feelings exchanged, fun times shared, bodies explored, memories made. We were inseperable and we belonged to each other. That still moment in time where we were perfectly engulfed in the newness and amazingness of each other quickly dissolved. And we allowed the others to invade our secure fortress. There were first the girls and then I brought in the boys and we all lived together in a pink and green house with small windows and doors but we were so squished in the tiny pink and green house that some of us had to go. I suppose that was my cue to exit stage left and take my dirty boys with me. And then the newness stopped. And my perfect lover became perfectly over me and that, for some odd reason, was perfectly fine.
Of course I cried, quite possibly for the sake of crying, quite possibly for the added drama. It would be far too simple to let your old thing that was once new walk away without a tearful goodbye.
I shouldn't have slept over the first night, I shouldn't have answered the calls, I should have been more guarded, I shouldn't have shown my weakness, I shouldn't have allowed him to lie to me and tell me that he was going to take care of me. I shouldn't have slept over the first night, I shouldn't have cared. But I did, and I do love him and I won't stop tonight or tomorrow, maybe in a month or two or seven. I don't drink juice for a reason.
And then I found myself back in the arms of him. Allowing him to wipe every tear that has nothing to do with him and touch every part of a body that does not belong to him (never again). That's what I like to tell myself, but I often doubt the validity of that argument. I am his and he knows it. My seasonal lover greets me this time riding in on a ray of sunshine. Welcome back, it has been a cold winter and we welcome your summertime love.
The past year or so of my life has gone by fairly undocumented so let's start with a story that marks the beginning of the end.
We met, intentions were purely carnal and extremely unattached (me, coming from a laborious and exhausting 2 year long fiasco of a relationship or whatever you'd like to call it, this was only appropriate). It was the newness that attracted me. I loved it, I basked in it. It was new and it was amazing and I could care less about it. Then we evolved and he snowballed into my beautiful surprise. There were feelings exchanged, fun times shared, bodies explored, memories made. We were inseperable and we belonged to each other. That still moment in time where we were perfectly engulfed in the newness and amazingness of each other quickly dissolved. And we allowed the others to invade our secure fortress. There were first the girls and then I brought in the boys and we all lived together in a pink and green house with small windows and doors but we were so squished in the tiny pink and green house that some of us had to go. I suppose that was my cue to exit stage left and take my dirty boys with me. And then the newness stopped. And my perfect lover became perfectly over me and that, for some odd reason, was perfectly fine.
Of course I cried, quite possibly for the sake of crying, quite possibly for the added drama. It would be far too simple to let your old thing that was once new walk away without a tearful goodbye.
I shouldn't have slept over the first night, I shouldn't have answered the calls, I should have been more guarded, I shouldn't have shown my weakness, I shouldn't have allowed him to lie to me and tell me that he was going to take care of me. I shouldn't have slept over the first night, I shouldn't have cared. But I did, and I do love him and I won't stop tonight or tomorrow, maybe in a month or two or seven. I don't drink juice for a reason.
And then I found myself back in the arms of him. Allowing him to wipe every tear that has nothing to do with him and touch every part of a body that does not belong to him (never again). That's what I like to tell myself, but I often doubt the validity of that argument. I am his and he knows it. My seasonal lover greets me this time riding in on a ray of sunshine. Welcome back, it has been a cold winter and we welcome your summertime love.
posted by Accidental_Diva @ 9:32 AM
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