Fangirl Fridays – Exercising my ABCs
An Exercise in ABCs
I've always marveled at the talent and creativity of good
authors. Their ability to create a whole world of characters, emotions, places
from imagination, weaving a fictional piece of life that can sweep us off our
feet. For years I wanted to have this ability, even a fraction of it. So I
started playing with words, creating paragraphs, moving them around, and now have a few
"pieces" I wrote for myself, small stories, exercises in my ABCs, or in
writing. Lately, inspired by an anecdote a friend told me — and, of course, by some of the wonderful books I've
read — I wrote this piece and I'd like to share it with you after the jump.
We talk for a while, he asks all these professional
questions, and I reply briskly and efficiently. I know I am very good at my job
and I'm proud of it. It takes about fifteen minutes; he says thank you, it was
good talking to you, and goodbye. I think I say goodbye, too.
I sit on my soft leather chair, close my eyes, and deep breathe
three times. I open my eyes, get up, and walk to the window. I look at the
beautiful scenery outside, but see only him. Nineteen years! I know his next move;
I can feel it in my bones. What should I do? Nineteen years is a long time.
I've moved on, my life is good, I don't need it; I'm stronger than that. Maybe
my gut feeling is wrong, maybe he will not come. What do I do if he does come?
Do I want him to come here?
I go back to my chair; I know I can do it. I erase him from
my mind and go back to work. Easier said than done, he hovers at the edge of my
mind the whole day.
------------
It's Wednesday afternoon, there's a knock on my office
door. I like my door closed when I concentrate, no outside interruptions.
"Come in," I say, and when I look up from my paper, HE is standing at
the open door. The world disappears. All I see is his intense gray-blue eyes,
nineteen years and it's like nothing has changed. Omg, he still affects me so
much. Somehow I keep my cool and smile at him. "Come in," I say again. My
voice is quiet but strong, you can't hear my trembling mind through my voice.
Nineteen years are erased with one intense gaze! He is smiling, entering my
office. He is still mesmerizing, my secret lover, my one and only... Hey, get a
grip on yourself, you are a grown up, aging woman... "How have you
been?" His voice is warm, caressing my body, caressing my mind. I look
into his beautiful eyes, I can do it, I'm strong enough now. I smile, "I am
good, life is good, I'm doing fine, how are you?" He smiles again, his
eyes boring into mine. "I'm good, too, you look great, I like your
hairstyle." I know he is really asking if he can touch my hair, and I can't
say no, I just can't. I crave his touch! It is as if it was just yesterday and
not way back in the past. How can it be? The last time I let him touch my hair
was on a sunny Monday, 19 years ago, before he left me shattered,
standing on the sidewalk, looking after his car disappearing into the distance.
Do I let him touch my hair? Do I let him kiss me? Because I
know for sure he is going there, he wants to kiss me. I want him to; I want to
feel again, so I nod my head, yes. I look at him, at his strong face, his
beautiful face. His sensuous lips. His hair is the only thing I find different,
it's silver now and thinning. He is standing in front of me, as tall and wide
shouldered as ever. I look up at him, his fingers touch my hair, I close my
eyes, I can't move, his hands leave my hair and circle my waist. He inhales
deeply. I open my eyes, and his face is millimeters from mine. He smells so
good. His lips touch mine, slowly, a bit hesitant, as if he is waiting for a
sign from me. I close my eyes again and he hugs me so strongly, I'm crushed
against him, feeling his body attached to mine. My hands go around his neck
without thinking, it's so natural. His lips are not hesitant anymore, they are
demanding, prowling, biting. His tongue clashes with mine. Our kiss is fierce
and desperate, trying to fill a 19-year gap. I need to stop this, I can't.
Somehow I find the strength to pull away from him. I am
shaking inside, he is shaking his head. "This chemistry between us, it
doesn't go away, does it?"
--------------
It is 3 AM and I am awake. The house is very quiet,
but my head is full of noise. My mind is on reruns, I relive that kiss time and
again. I lie in bed; my husband is sound asleep, breathing softly. My mind is
in turmoil, my heart and stomach are in pain, and I can't stop thinking about
him. About the way he pulled me against him, the feeling of his hard body tight
with mine. Those lips, those hands and fingers...his voice alone makes
butterflies in my stomach. I AM UNDONE...
Well done Merit. I enjoyed reading this.
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