The Long Pause

Not Again

Jamaica? He can't be serious?

After all we just left Manhattan. When we moved two years ago he promised that the move to Omaha was a great career move. "For both of us," he said. Not totally convinced and with much reservation I listened as he went into great detail why this move was going to be good for us.

Omaha uh? At the time it sounded good. I was tired of our tiny apartment in the city. When he brought over the laptop and placed it on the small glass table where I was cutting out samples from tawny tan suede I was quickly drawn to the large homes. The laptop barely fits on the crowded kitchen table covered with sketches and fabric.

David clicked on a link revealing even larger houses beautifully landscaped with an endless green space. I was mesmerized with the click of the mouse on the next link. It was a fairly large house. The two story red brick structure was framed with four stately white pillars accented with what seemed like the miles of blue skyline and seductive cascading snow cap hills in the distant. He knew I was a sucker for modern colonial houses. This is Omaha? I thought to myself.  “This is it.” he said with reserved excitement.

David and I got married three years ago in a small antiquated church in Rosedale with twenty of our closest friends. That's all the church could hold. We lost thirty more of our other friends because they could not fit in the church. In an era of mega churches go figure.

We both lived at home at the time. We agreed after the wedding we would move to the city where he worked. Our wedding and move was all very well calculated. David is anal about advance planning.  When we told his parents about our plans his very outspoken Jamaican mother asked quite poignantly "You two have Manhattan apartment money?" David was her baby. Days leading up to our wedding she made several inferences to "baby" remaining at home. I did my best to ignore her. All I knew I was not going to live with his parents.

Don't get me wrong his parents have done quite well for themselves. They own several boutique hotels across New England. They have a waiting list of over a year to get a suite. They live in a modest house in Rosedale all because his mother fears Uncle Sam. Strange as it sounded I would later learn that this was a common fear amongst elder West Indians and Vida and her friends were no exception.

Well as it turned out we had Manhattan apartment money, but only for eight hundred square foot space. Bent to live the city life with David's plans we moved into our quaint studio in the middle of January.  As luck would have it the furnace in the newly renovated build was broken. Most of the tenants were all crammed into the bistro across the street. The mood was electrifying with the mixture of jazz and spirited conversation escaping from the eatery each time someone entered or exited.

Looking forward to enjoying our first night in our new home we left the cramped bistro and walked across the street to our building. We raced up the brightly lit narrow stairwell to the fifth floor straight to studio five B. We spend our first night in our apartment huddled under blankets. That night I would discover I was married to a man that knew how to keep his wife warm on an unexpectedly cold New York night.

I can still remember it so well as if it was yesterday. Flooded with memories of that night Miss Kitty flushed with moistness purred. Moving my hands to the warm area I attempted to calm her with gently strokes.

Once up the stairs we stumbled into the tiny studio feeling the effects from all those drinks with our new neighbours. I found a couple of blankets made a makeshift bed on the newly stained wood floor. David was busy putting things away. He brought in the last box from the hallway and placed in on the kitchen counter even though it had bedroom written on it. "David, that’s for the bedroom." 

"Well when we get a bedroom I will put it there."

I deserved that. "Baby I'm starving." Getting caught up in the feverish excitement in the crowd at the bistro we never ate. It all started as soon as we entered when Allen and Jenna; the couple in studio A bought us the first round of many. 

"Me too." He walked across the kitchen floor swiftly and lay next to me. Right away I could feel his hardness against my ass.

"David, seriously I want food."

"Me too" he could barely get the words out as his lips covered my mouth. His tongue was warm and thawed my cold body. My hunger pangs were replaced with a different kind of appetite. I closed my eyes and let him take over. His hands clumsily fondled my hard nipples. I do believe my husband was mildly drunk.

I was further aroused at this new revelation. I could not help but hope that this time he was tipsy enough to succumb to the beckoning of Miss Kitty. Erupting with desire I pushed his head between my full round breast hoping he would get the hint and continue going south to munch on my cleanly shaven kitty. 

End of preview.

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Secrets Revealed

Although we have known each other for so long, I know you have no idea of the secret that I carry with me each day. Despite the minutes, hours and quiet times that we have spent in each other’s company, you have no idea what runs through my mind. Your scent, your smile your unique style, it is all so comforting. It is this familiarity that I seek that I desire yet I am scared of the thought of letting you get too close, letting you know. When I am around you I cannot breathe, I gasp for air and daze in euphoric pleasure. I want to open my heart, my mind, my body and my soul so you can get a glimpse of the depth and breadth of my love for you. It is the tenderness in your voice that I so love when you speak of your children, it is the silliness in your laughter that I so enjoy when you are at a loss for words it is your simple admissions to life’s mistakes that I so admire in you. I know you like me, I know you feel me, but it is your love that I so desire?

The last time I wrote on this blog was two years ago. Wow, how time has passed and how little has changed.

I am still struggling with my weight and damn it is sad to know that I am at the same stage with my weight as I was two years ago. Imagine if I had simply committed to losing a pound a week I would be approximately 104 pounds lighter. Do you think it is too late to make that commitment?

I really don’t want to talk about weight loss right now. The passage above is from an email I sent a couple of days ago to a man I fell in love with, the same man that I had a romantic night with two years ago. So as you can see, not only has things changed in my love life, I went out and fell in love. The problem, major problem – married man! The ultimate no no.

So in coming to some realization I broke it off this morning. As painful as that was, it was also necessary. I really love him and the only way to move beyond this dead end relationship was to put an end to it. First I have to admit that at no point did I set out to develop romantic feelings for a married man. In fact, this man was not even my type. The starvation for intimacy and overwhelming desire for attention obviously overshadowed my common sense.

So what have I learn and what can I share with you. First I have to admit something. In breaking it off deep down inside I am hoping that we still have a future. Not right now, but perhaps later. No comment please – I know it would appear somewhat delusional.

Here are the lessons learned – in a relationship such as this one the nights are very lonely. We did not enjoy any of the pleasures of developing a real relationship, no late night phone calls (although I did get those 1:00am booty sex phone calls – not romantic at all). No overnight romantic night outs. I could not call him when I needed him and I spent most of my time waiting for him to call me. This did nothing for my self esteem, in fact it eroded myself esteem.

I strongly encourage all women; despite your need for love and attention please take the time to find the right partner. Do not be disillusioned by quick fixes. Sex in a hotel does not constitute love. It is just sex. No matter how long it may take, it is possible to find a relationship that is right. Take the time to do the things that you enjoy and forget about living to fulfill someone else’s expectation. Enjoy life to the fullest with or without a mate.

Fading Forties

Youth is a quick foray into life that passes so quickly we often do not have time to enjoy the moment. And as I get older I have a new found appreciation for youth. This is ironic, since when I was younger I wanted nothing more than to be older and mature as I waned through various aging process; the awkward teenage years, the trivial twenties and the tumulus thirties. Now, I am forced to embrace the fading forties. I say fading because that is how I feel right now. Although I am doing my best to accept the newly coined phrase for those of us who are now in our forties, “forty is the new thirty.” A promising thought, don’t you think. After all according to the experts we are now living longer and we are more active than the previous generation. I am not alone in this desire; take a look at the billion dollar cosmetic market that uses young women to pimp out products that promises youthful solution to an aging population.

The desire to be young again has intensified because I am now officially single; at least according to my divorce document that arrived in the mail last week. For many the realization of being single intensifies according the physical shape that you are in. I say this, because if you are happy with your overall physical appearance chances are you are actively engaged in normal social activities. I, on the other hand, I am part of the growing population that struggles with maintaining a normal body weight. You now the type, the one that has a date with the bathroom scale every Monday morning in hopes that some how this will be the week that the magic of dieting will be realized. I no longer follow that Monday morning routine. Partly because I am convinced that my scale is a liar and partly because I have accepted the things in my life that I cannot change (although according to a popular Beverly Hills plastic surgeon – there isn’t anything on the human body that he cannot fix). And after years of compartmentalizing my body parts, I have now learned to chuck in all under unchangeable and impossible. What a relief that was.

Having said that, I also came to the other realization – it was time to get my feet wet and enjoy the company of the opposite sex again. Because I live in a small town and I do not know that many people here, I would have to expand my search zone. I decided that the next time that I was on a business trip would be the right time to act on this resolution. Shortly after my declaration I embarked on a business trip to a large cosmopolitan city. I checked into a major hotel chain in the art district of the city. From what I gathered art districts have the reputation for being unrestricted and quaint. Prior to my departure I had made arrangements to have dinner and drinks with two unsuspecting prospects. There was no turning back and so I not only needed a plan of action, I made provision for a back-up. I selected my non career wear carefully to emphasize my assets and down play any flaws. I was now ready to put my plan into action.

Next time...Plan of Action