(Lovely view from 22nd floor…)
The date was planned… 

Meet me here…
Midtown Manhattan. 
Trendy pop up hotel…
Marketed toward the boughy hipsters who are accustomed to the finer things, but pretend they aren’t…
Conservative blue silk… black shoe, red lips.
The driver attempted small talk…
A full size luxury sedan… Maybe a bit too much…
I stared out the window, looking at landmarks… Our landmarks…

We crossed the Brooklyn bridge and I felt my heart drop.  It was just some months ago we strolled across holding hands and snapping photos.  We put a lock on bridge as lovers do often and kissed for the camera as tourists watched.  I wish I had the combination… I’d take it back.  You laughed when we threw it out… Saying it wasn’t necessary to memorize it. Now,  I’m pretty sure you did. 

There he was, on the balcony, just as he said… I could see the smile in his eyes behind his sunglasses.  I made my way up to the second floor lounge, and he purposefully stayed across the room.  I would have to come to him.   Tall, dark, nonchalant, and entitled… Boy can I really pick them… The pleasantries began and I started to take his inventory.  Charles Tyrwhitt shirt… I didn’t even have to look, I knew… You wear those, and I found collar stays among my things in my jewelry box.  Funny how a small insignificant item such as a collar stay can stir up so much emotion.  Immediately, I remembered unbuttoning your shirts in haste to feel your skin against mine.  His loafers were Italian, broken in, and he was completely at ease.  I felt a fraud.  He touched my sleeve and skirt hem, loving the fabric and fit, commenting on my conservative dress and how I somehow made it sexy.  In that moment I felt like jumping off the balcony.  How does he see that?  We talked at length about his work and my work and I started to feel more comfortable.  It was some time later that I felt myself smile for real and he noticed that as well… For a technical man working with numbers, I was impressed by keenness. 

We decided to take our meeting upstairs.  I felt comfortable with him.  He wanted to take me to meet his consultants for a late dinner and ‘show me off,’ something I wasn’t accustomed to hearing in recent months.  He held my hand, and it was easy, dare I say natural even? I had allowed him to kiss me once and it was nice, different… Not you…  But then again no one else in this world is you.  His height was something I found myself liking, he wasn’t over bearing and maintained an aloofness which I find sexy.  The room was well appointed.  High end hippie is how I would describe it.  An exercise ball and all eco friendly everything… Makes me laugh at all the irony I was surrounded with.  We had some snacks on the bed and we fell into some deep conversation.  Family, life, goals, etc. I did my best to censor myself and only give answers he wanted to hear.. it’s a game and a dance, and I am a master.   Underneath all of his armor and intelligence, he is still a man and I know what men truly want. 

He kissed me, this time with more aggressiveness.  I liked it, so I kissed him back equally.  I think that surprised him. In fact, he said so. I knew it would, and no matter how big and successful he is in his professional world, I was the puppet master here.  The tables turned and I now had control.  I did all along.  I was curious to how he felt, how he would taste, and how I would respond to him touching me.  So I went in.  Not subtly, direct.  No point in semantics here.  The afternoon progressed with something only I could have predicted.  His sweetness was endearing.  I told him to not be coy and show me what he really wanted.  You see, I could see in his eyes what he truly desired and I challenged him to take it.  He did, I don’t think he realized that I gave it to him.  But that’s okay by me….

He held me for some time, it became hard for me to pretend to stay present.  He wasn’t you.  His smell, his taste, his eyes.. not you.  He asked me where I had gone and I was thoroughly and pleasanly surprised he noticed.  I thought about a lie, but decided on the truth…not prepared for what would happen next.  He just pulled me closer.  I wanted to run, my MO.  But he held me.  I counted my breaths and asked him to tell me about Berkeley.  Polar opposites, yet so similar.  He asked me about East coast life and we traded jabs.  Lying there naked in bamboo sheets, while the rest of Manhattan hustled about.  Something inside me felt different.  

I didn’t attend his dinner, opting to head home and reflect on my day.  The driver stayed quiet this time and I still couldn’t get it out of my head.  He isn’t you….  And who the fuck am I??  

(A day in the life… To be continued…)


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