Monthly Archives: August 2019

Lay Your Cards On The Table

A girl once told me we missed our window and wouldn’t get another shot until we were in our fifties.

I told her maybe that would be how it would have to go and she told me I wouldn’t want her then

I protested and she told me men wouldn’t be interested in a 50 something year old woman and I said she couldn’t know that.

I am sure it made sense to her then because we both thought of 50 as being old but now that we made it neither of us really sees it as being so damn old anymore.

We’re not kids anymore but we’re not ancient either.

Might not look like we once did but definitely don’t look worn out either.

Same girl told me to remember we would always lay our cards on the table and talk things out.

Made sense then, makes sense now. Can’t say if it will happen or where things will lead but got this feeling it might be worth exploring…maybe.

That is the funny thing, we want guarantees that we can’t get without taking a chance or cracking a door open just a little.

So it comes down to what to do, what to do, what to do.

I have a few ideas, but I am not sharing them here. 🙂

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Fantasy Or Fiction

He read an old post and wondered how long some things could go on but he didn’t spend much time thinking because he knew.

Some things could go on for decades and maybe a life time because you didn’t get to spend time figuring out fantasy or fiction.

You didn’t get to see if your fantasy could be real because circumstances got in the way and you or another couldn’t or wouldn’t take a chance.

Sometimes he looked at himself in the mirror and wondered if the crap he had gone through had made it more difficult. Because he had been through all kinds of hell during the last several years.

It had been unexpected and among the most painful and challenging experiences he had ever encountered. There had been times when he had thought about reaching out to say he needed to be completely open and vulnerable with someone.

But he hadn’t done it because he wasn’t convinced she would do it.

He was certain if he was dying or in the most desperate of situations he could ask and she would do what she could but this wasn’t desperate.

Though there had been times when it had felt like it.

So when he looked at himself he felt like he looked like hell, like he had gotten his ass kicked every day for the past four years.

And maybe that had hurt things because physical attraction could be impacted by shit like that.

A dear friend told him that this kind of thing didn’t happen. She said that when a woman truly loved a man she might look at him and think he looked like hell, but a part of her would always see him as attractive.

That didn’t mean that she would act on it or interpret attractive as time to get naked but it did mean if she were open to relationships that such a man might have an opportunity.

She followed up with a 15 minute explanation that hurt his head because it made no sense to him and he was grateful she had no idea there was a real situation in mind when he asked the question because he had no interest in sharing a story or answering questions.

All he really wanted to know was the basic answer to the initial question. Truth was he was working hard at the gym because the person who hated the way he looked was him.

And the last time he had seen her in person something had clicked and he had wanted to tell her she was fucking beautiful but that might have created issues and he didn’t want to manage those.

So he thought it was too bad he couldn’t magically be trapped in a Ritz Carlton with her for a week.

He wanted to have her again in every way and position, but mostly he wanted to lie in bed with her and know they could talk as they once had, best friends in love.

Maybe that was the biggest fiction and fantasy of his almost middle aged years, or maybe not.

It was certainly more pleasant to think about than the chaos swirling around him.

He knew he would find a way through that, but he didn’t look forward to what would be required. It could be ugly and he was less interested in dealing with that than he had ever been.

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Inside You Again

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed when he predicted he would be inside her again.

He looked at her, smiled and said he was referring to her heart and head.

She didn’t say anything, stared at him and he watched the dials turn inside her eyes.

He couldn’t predict whether she believed he wasn’t hitting on her or whether she thought he was but believed he was doing so because of deeper feelings.

“Ya know if I get inside your heart and head again I get everything else too.”

She told him he was being arrogant.

“Not arrogant, it is fact. If you decide you have real feelings there is probably going to a be a time when everything else comes. Don’t know when or where it leads, but if it happens I’ll keep going.”

“Adults can control themselves.”

“I know. I have and I still am. Doesn’t mean I can’t think or speak it. Nor does it guarantee things will or won’t go a certain way. Sometimes I like to put it out there and sometimes I don’t. People are nuts, me included.”

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Too Many Movies

The start of a new story

Maybe I watch Too Many Movies, but I saw Just Like Heaven it gave me an idea.

I thought about taking the idea and moving it from head to paper to see where it would lead.

So I threw some words upon a page and then something happened.

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You Kissed Me First

The boy told the girl he remembered her kissing him first and predicted she would do it again, maybe sooner than later.

“You don’t want to admit you want it that way. You want me to do it, but I know better.

It is why I let you think you are the boss and why I didn’t tell you that what you wore was see through. Got a nice look at your shape, not that I had to have it, seen you enough to remember, but enjoyed it just the same. ;)”

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Deluded…Again

The girl told him he was deluded and he immediately got pissed off.

His reaction told him he was already fired up about other stuff and that this wasn’t worth being irritated by, but sometimes that is how it goes.

In many ways they were like an old married couple or so he felt. He suspected she might agree or that she might say no just to be oppositional.

He was tempted call her and say they needed make up sex for the fight she probably wasn’t aware they had just had.

Given that he knew his response was over the top he thought about telling her that he was in dire need of a blow job, but thought that make up sex might be the better way to do.

Make up sex might include a blow job and even if it didn’t it was probably a better way to bring about the physical intimacy they hadn’t had in years.

But he wasn’t about to chase ghosts or give up that much information without getting more of a confirmation that such things would be well received so he kept his mouth shut.

Sometimes he listened to Bowie sing Heroes and thought about telling her it reminded him of them. They could be heroes just for one day.

I, I can remember
(I remember)
Standing by the wall
(By the wall)
And the guns, shot above our heads
(Over our heads)
And we kissed, as though nothing could fall
(Nothing could fall)

The music played and he thought of the girl who would be queen and whether just for one day was enough or if it would open Pandora’s box.

It required too much thinking for this particular moment so he looked out the window in her general direction and silently reached for her, wondering if maybe she might do the same.

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