No Tears This Time

Just because there was no tears this time, doesn't mean it changes how I feel.

Swinging by after a nice quiet morning, it started, as we always do, with a conversation about the weekend. A nice one on one conversation. Its tense and yet I don't cry.

I'm waiting to go to bed, or fall asleep.

After all the good times, I have the urge to keep them going.

It started on a drizzly day. We got to go for a nice walk together. I meant it for the sake of just going out and doing something together.

But there was a lot said on the weekend. There was a lot done on the weekend. There was a lot wanted to be said and done. So we spoke, as we do, and I reminded him of everything, what he whispered in my ear.

He said he shouldn't be having those thoughts, but he was, so why? And what did they say?  He wants to come around for my birthday, really desperate to do so. Because he doesn't think he's going to see me on Christmas. I know why. It makes me really sad actually.

It does because I associate Christmas with the people I'm closest with and I wish he would be there for it. And I don't want this to turn into Halloween. I wish he could be there for Christmas Eve. That's the most important day for me.

We set out in a direction different from what we usually do. I'd never been this way. The landscape rolled  away in orange grasses and purple heather.  There are patches of thick mossy green.  The road twists and turns around bends, past groves.

The air is damp, and I'm traveling down a road I don't know. He's on my left. Once or twice we pause and examined the view or traveled along the side of the road, looked at the quaintness of the cottages. I liked the cows and bulls. Speaking of friends and people.  We play foot ball with a rock and hear someone hunting in the hills.

We started talking about personal, physical things. Stories. We're giving each other eyes again, desire. And he wonders why it is this way. I wonder too.

We have to go back and I'm reluctant, but I make no noise of it. I'm so pleased. It’s a pleasant experience and we're both happy. We came down into the town, through to his house and he wonders about how long it will last and if she really is his girlfriend.

We stop at his house and he tells me she'll be dropping by. I am ready. I can handle this, but I'm not happy about it. In fact, I wear no makeup because I know the tears will come from some point. I can handle it, again, I am drunk on it, and I know he'll be by in the evening. I give a big hug, then a second because sometimes I'm worried I'll never get one again.

Between hugs, he gives me a squeeze on my peach. It’s a break. Something happened. Something is going to happen.

We hug once more, and I feel safe.

Later in the evening, he comes by there are eyes passed between and he stays on, after SR (New Manager) goes to bed and we get a good bye hug before he goes. I just want to make it last, or sneak into his car with him.  So I just hug again, a strong heavy hug.

He goes to his car and I wave good bye from the door way.

I'm stressed. She stresses me out.  She upsets me because I feel like she took something from me.  She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing how I feel. She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing with him. She upsets me because he's not happy. She upsets me because she made him feel guilty. She upsets me because she made him feel trapped. She upsets me because she cannot see. She upsets me because… I like him and I miss him.