The man looked at a picture of him and the woman and smiled.
She looked better than he did, not so weathered and worn and he was certain he looked older now than he did then.
He had been through hell and sometimes he wondered if he had pulled himself out or if he was so very different now that he just didn’t recognize it.
Sometimes he would walk under the midnight sky and send his thoughts out, searching for her.
More than once he was certain he found her looking for him too.
More than once he was sure he felt her hand slip into his and was confident heart and soul had been restored.
It wasn’t always easy to believe because it required faith and letting go of tangible. It required suspending disbelief and relying solely upon physical actions and that was hard.
Hard because he usually focused upon taste, touch and sound.
Usually focused upon what he could prove. If she stood or lay next to him it was clear that it wasn’t imagination, hope or fantasy.
But the fire in his belly and whisper in his head pushed him to believe and to accept that what seemed impossible was possible.
He could take her and she would give herself not out of guilt or mercy but because some things just are.
And then he turned off the lights and walked into the dark muttering at the end of the day we’ll find out what is what and won’t that be illuminating.
He wrote a letter to the woman and said he was ready to suggest she submit to his tender or not so tender advances as the case warranted.
“Dear Woman, I would like your mouth about now. Would like to kiss you and hug you.
Would like to feed you and do many other things carnal and otherwise.”
He looked at the words and thought about offering how it would be good for both of them because of the level and depth of trust they shared.
Thought about how the astrology said his sign could heal hers and how she needed some of that now.
Wondered if she would admit and acknowledge the value and benefit they could share. Played around with trying to push the romantic side as a way to motivate her and decided to be direct.
Not because romance wasn’t involved, it always was. Some connections run so deep and some fires burn so bright all it takes is a single touch.
“Maybe I’ll have you again or maybe you’ll have me. Sometimes I wonder who is chasing who.”
The picture didn’t respond, it just smiled at him and so he whispered a secret and wondered if she could hear it.
There was a time where they felt like they could read the other’s mind and maybe it had never left.
Sometimes he was certain that was so and sometimes less certain.
“You may think I am crazy, but I have this feeling and I need to know what it means.”
The picture continued to smile and he smiled back.
He told her she needed to be dominated and could start by bending over the couch.
She laughed and said that she could but that wasn’t going to make her feel like she had submitted.
He said he knew a few tricks that old men pushing 60 never knew and could never perform, even if they were younger.
Her eyes narrowed and she said he might have blown his chance.
He told her she might have blown hers and he might say no.
They stared at each other and waited.