CUP OF JO...

To miss...

What I miss...

Is the connection of love. That peaceful sense that someone knows you completely; to be utterly exposed to someone who loves you any which way. A lover who knows you before you utter a word; a spiritual union you can feel without them being next to you.

I miss the look of love. The twinkle in the eyes of the man who is excited to see you; the nervous touch of a lover who wants to make love to you; the eager bend of his neck that wants to hear every audible sound from you...and you want the same of him and react equally.

I miss the intellect of love. The sharing of stories. The new thoughts. Insights from another's perspective and experiences. The collaboration of projects. The uplifting, heartbreaking, astounding, contradicting, motivating conversations.

I miss the power of love. Knowing that someone has your back, and you have theirs; like an exclusive gang that only two people will ever really know and understand. An invincible force that is banded together. It can move mountains and frequently does.

I miss the patience of love. The only person you can totally lose it over and will instantly forgive you. The one who will wait because they believe in you. The one who will accept you even when you're at your worst.

I miss the commitment of love. The daily routines that arise from caring enough about each other to be involved completely and wholely. These include the phone calls, follow through, how to cook the chicken, what toothpaste to buy, letting go of your pride, stroking some ego. The small alterations, modifications become yours. They're not seen as compromises; it's renamed as care.

I miss the romance of love. The first kiss, unexpected flowers, sweet letters, personal songs, inside jokes, pleasant teases, anniversaries, candle light dancing.

I miss the playfulness of love. The consistent laughter, wrestling, giggling, chasing each other naked, butt smacking, pinching, poking, joking, serenading, jumping, improvising. The zest to impress. The quirky twists and turns to fun.

I miss the adventure of love. The weekend excursions, plans for rainy days, vacations, vision boards, barbeques, games, parties. The numerous paths chosen by two partners destined for the spirited journeys.

I miss the harmony and tenderness of love. The wiping of tears, forehead kisses, a shared quiet; the strong hug that feels like a hideaway of strength.

I miss the friendship of love. The trust of a person who is reliable; who bears witness to your highs and lows. A friend for life no matter if sex is forever restricted.

I miss the growth of love. When choices are hard and love is tested. The moment your lover reflects, gets in touch internally and comes back to fight for understanding.

I miss the attraction, passion of love. The lust, fire in the pit of your stomach, racing heart, the epidermal ravaging of each other's bodies. The attraction to which begins, builds, maintains and flows. The great and consistent sex! The passion to which only gets better with age.

I miss...

You.

posted by Only The Lonely @ 1:23 AM

Inner werewolf

It's 1:41AM in Los Angeles. My mind woke at the stroke of midnight, but there's no full moon out tonight. I howl internally. No antidote yet to remedy my thirst, cravings, internal hunger...My thirst for what you ask? I elusively stare back at you. You are the enemy no matter what you do; sitting leisurely like my prey. My only comment is to warn you my inner werewolf is alert and he has quite a nasty bite. You rise and leave like an intelligent person. I rejoice quietly as I have saved another soul.

My quarantine is this large box. They call it a roof, a door, walls. It is my prison. Caged by my own demise, my own hand, my own paw. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock is the only sound I hear with these acute ears. My eyes narrow over the screen as my nails and fingers extend to type this message. I have the pills. I could give myself the deepest of sleeps, like a pup over an examining table. Not yet. Maybe as the tick tock roars over me like fire. Maybe then I will find a corner to rest. But right now, I pace. Pace...

If only the wolf was out during the day. What a hunt that would be! Who would I track down? Who would I ravish? Who might join the pack? Perhaps I could hide the fangs with a dental cleaning, shiny and pearly white with Crest? I could be secretly ravenous with a disguise that is human, female. A straight up bitch; hounding for what she wants. At least the beast gets her way. It is not in the slightest submissive, compliant or domesticated. It is fierce, authoritative and free. Free to roam. To discover. Like a creature destined to the dark, I keep it tempered. Prodding with a stick. I abate it. For now.

Sir Time reads 2:00AM. The inner werewolf treads old ground, over and over again. Like a path weathered and now winds like a road. When will this latent creature be efficient, effective, released; to upset the predestined dirt? Perhaps I will allow it to see the morning light once again. A sweet tempting gesture. A kind maneuver to temper. Like an appetizer before the main course. The werewolf will gasp eager to be fed more, but day will come shortly. It's grasp will retract soon enough...

2:14AM
2:15AM
2:16AM
2:17AM...

posted by Only The Lonely @ 1:40 AM