A Prosetry Reflection:
I know you. Our souls are intertwined. I can sometimes read your mind, think the same thing as you at the same time, sense your feelings, complete your sentences. Now that you have left me, what do I do with all of this useless information?
I know how you like to be kissed~soft and lingering and sometimes passionate with our tongues dancing and licking and teasing~and how you pause and let our lips linger barely touching so we can breathe the same breath, share the same air.
I know how you like your feet massaged for hours and your back scratched and light tickling touches to your arms and legs~and the way you respond with sighs and "oh"s and, "Lori, you have no idea how good that feels!"
I know how you like to hold hands everywhere~in bars, restaurants, at baseball games, in the grocery store, in line at Subway...and how you always kiss my hand while we're driving in the car.
I know how you like to cuddle on the couch and tangle our legs together and play footsie and run your hands through my hair for hours.
And...I know how you like to make love~slow and sweet concentrating on each other and every sensation and talking through it...and I sometimes make little girl noises and soft sounds that turn you on, then wild and rough~how you love for me to pull your hair and bite and leave marks and tell you what I want and say your name at the heighth of passion.
And there are other things~I know your favorite movies~I know you love movies from the 1800s where a man can kill another man in a to-the-death fight and then tip his hat to a lady. I know you idolize John Wayne and wish you could have met Ronald Reagan.
I know you are a romantic and remember watching you cry in "A Walk to Remember" and get mushy and awed by the love scenes in "Serendipity" and that you cried in "Love Actually" when he held up the poster at her doorstep, the one that read, "To me, you are perfect." I know which scenes in movies scare you and which ones leave you in awe and wanting to talk for hours, like about "the chaos principle" from the movie, "The Butterfly Effect"...or about young girls after watching "Thirteen" and we had long talks about raising daughters because you never had and you planned on being around then to watch my Morgan grow up.
I know what makes you laugh and which movies have you rolling around howling and snorting and unable to catch your breath like..."Sordid Lives" and how you told me you laughed more in a few months with me than you had in the last sixteen years.
And your 100s of cd's~I've borrowed them and listened to all your favorites...I know how your little boy started singing a country song, "Feed Jake" from his carseat and which songs you and Gay used to make love to and songs that remind you of Laura and songs that make you think of your mother and songs that just make you think. I know that "Unanswered Prayers" is your anthem to Ethan and that Shawn Mullen's "Shimmer" is your song for Alex...and at one time, Santana's, "She Can't Let Go" reminded you of me. I know what songs make you feel like fighting and which songs make you feel like drinking and which songs you used to get stoned to.
I know you hate the color chartreuse and that your first car was a 1967 Ford Fairlane and that you cut your fingers on catfish whiskers as a little boy and that you used to steal tomatos from gardens with your childhood friends~that you'd grab your bikes and your baseball gloves and your saltshakers. I know your middle name. I know your birthday. I know your star sign. I know you don't dance and don't sing in front of others but there are songs you can't help singing along with on the radio in the car.
I know your hopes. I know your dreams. I know your fears.
The only thing I don't know...
is how you could throw everything we were working on together...
away in a sixty second decision.
That is something~
I will never know~
and never understand
for as long as I live.
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