Forever Isn’t Long Enough

I can’t wait to sit up on nights when we can’t sleep and just talk. That’s all really. You’ll think I’m crazy but do you know I’ve never just sat up and talked with a woman all night. No sex, no falling asleep with her head on my lap. I’d like that, I want that. To just talk about old movies, old loves, our parents. I feel like I’m an orphan at times, not physically but mentally. A father that sees me and doesn’t know who I am, literally doesn’t know who I am because he’s so drunk. A mother that wasn’t ready to be a mom when she had me. I want to rub your stomach and tell you about how that made me fell. I need to listen to you talk about when you were at your lowest point so that I can never take you to that place. So that I can protect you and hate who you hate, love who you love, appreciate who protected you before me.

www.demezw.com

flowers Sitting at my desk listening to Teddy Pendergrass, drinking this last bit of rum and juice seeing my forever in front of me I can’t help but to smile. I’ve sort of gotten away from writing about love and marriage and being lonely. I’ve made an effort not to write about how much I’m looking forward to seeing you walk down the aisle.

I’ve stopped writing about how I’ve thought about everything from how I’ll propose to you to where we’ll make love for the first time as husband and wife. In the limo after the ceremony. In the hotel room on the floor. Will your dress be too fluffy for me to bring you to ecstasy while you have it on? Will it be different, will it feel different? I started pretending like my novel isn’t about marriage and commitment. I stopped being me because I was worrying about…

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