asi

she just left

“Love her or hate her?”  I read the text I get from Stel everyday and text back that today I love her.

She’s talking about Cory.  Cory’s the woman who makes me crazy and who I hate sometimes but am always in love with.  It’s a messy situation to say the least and few people know the daily details.  Stel is one of the few and she’s very sympathetic to my situation. 

She decided to do a daily check-in with me rather than just hear tidbits when we’re talking in the nurses’ lounge at work.  She seems to always be rolling her eyes and isn’t the least surprised that I always have an answer when she asks me for the latest with Cory.

She calls right away and asks what’s up and I  give her a rundown of the morning.

“It was kind of a significant day,” I said. 

It was a fucking perfect day, I’m thinking to myself.

Then I tell her how she just left and I didn’t know what to do with myself.  The morning was as good as it could be.  We walked to the coffee shop, she pushed the stroller.  We walked to the park and watched the kid play.  We came home and I remembered that this was the first time in three years that she’d been to my house.  The kid went to sleep and we were left looking at each other, both of us feeling the sadness that sat in the room like a third person. 

I didn’t want her to go.  I kind of blocked the door I think.  She leaned against me and we did our thing, started our goodbye.  The hold was tight and long and more painful by the second.  Then one of us kissed the other, I can’t remember who.  Someone let her lips touch a cheek, and then we were off. 

This is how it always goes.  We often almost make it.  We often almost can be “friends”. 

Then there’s the goodbye and her smell and I become all of those lame clichés that still make me want to be sick.  I feel her skin and her chest lies on me.  Her strong hips are right where I know they’ll be but her mouth keeps surprising me.  Jesus, what is this, God, I love it.

And then she’s gone.

I decide to take a bath because I don’t know what else to do.  I hope she’s taking a bath too cause now its raining and she just got her period and I know she must feel like shit.  I want to put my warm hand on her belly. 

She texts something.  Tells me it’s raining.  I write back and tell her to come back and she says she can’t.  Of course she can’t.  She’s already done more than she can.  She’s not taking care of herself and I’m not helping. 

She’s amazing.  She’s smart and sassy and funny and unbelievably thoughtful and kind and committed and so fucking hot.  She’s practically perfect.  And she loves me. 

I love her too.

Now for the other part, I’m married.  To a man.