only to find that it brought you back where you started...
Crouching near the foot of “my A’s” bed digging openly in my newest addition to my family of Italian accessories, my handbag, throwing out lipsticks, chewing gum, old wrappers and things of the sort. I think out loud in a singsong tune “I can never find paper when you need it
I find a crumbled cocktail receipt from Germany, I was there only 12 hours ago living a different life; a quick flashback of my travels and other life as goose bumps dot my skin as quickly as the memory disappears.
I look down at the writing on the receipt it is foreign to my jet lagged brain and every moment I have lived up to this point seems like a dream.
I try and shake the sleep from my brain and squeeze out my last few drops of common sense that I was saving for a needed occasion.
“Okay, right I think now one, two, three concentrate”, I quickly scribble “I love you love, K” on the German receipt and slip the half attempt for a love note under his pillow for him to find when he pulls back his covers tonight, I slide out of the room and close the door behind me, not knowing when I will see him again.
Twenty minutes before I was in a crouching tiger hidden dragon position in A’s bedroom floor, the morning sun was painting colors on my face and danced joyfully around a new bedroom as I tossed around in a restless sleep.
Jet lag and tired I realized the bed I was occupying was not my own, but I was getting used to sleeping in a bed that was not mine. Before finding myself pressed again my Russian lover I was living in Italy for over a year, Spain for the summer and a whirlwind trip to North Africa, then traveling for about three years total living out of a suitcase. I have spent at least two years of my life time in an airport. My own bed was as far away as my next homemade lemoncello in Italy and fragrant rice appetizer in Indonesia.
It took a few moments to register where I was and who was beside me. Not a new lover but someone who has always been there somewhere push in the back of my mind; Countless travels, countless goodbyes and reunions, always going back to one another, if only for a night.
I just touched down into the good old US of A only 24 hours before, living out of a backpack for ten weeks and before my backpack tirade living in Europe for over a year. The familiar sounds and smells of America and the man next to made me smile.
My arm tingled and felt numb under his strong young body on my small frame, young body I may add, four and a half years younger to be exact. I cuddle up next to him and tried to picture what he looked like I the first time I saw him, he looks older now almost like his heart holds secrets I will never understand. I can tell he has had a difficult year in my absence, not because I have been gone but because of things I may never know.
His light hair has turned a shade darker and his muscular build has become slightly thinner, the untrained lover’s eye would never know the difference.
I fell in love with his almond shaped eyes that change color with his various moods; they shine a golden yellow.
The many moods from him and his eyes keep me wanting more, perhaps more than he can ever give, maybe I can not give it either, I keep waiting for him to open up to me, to tell me his great story, like I have done so many times with him.
For me it is easy, I spill my secrets as easily as one can fall off of a log, an open book widely accessible for him. I usually get home from an adventure and one of my first stops is his room.
After our routine reunion is finished he sits on the edge of his bed with his head slightly tilted to the left listening intently and watching my animated show of telling my latest full blown wild adventure. I have the habit of having wild experiences and attracting people from all walks of life. I truly believe it must say “if you are slightly crazy, come and talk to me” tattooed in the center of my head. I am a walking magnet for the circus, and there is nothing wrong with that I may add.
Then he tries to kiss me mid comedy or circus routine and I still manage to ramble on until my point is fully finished and he is laughing at the fact I may look different but I never change. He says, “I could be naked in front of him and I am still chatting away.”
I was an English teacher at a language institute for adults that travel to the USA to learn English in the nation’s capital Washington D.C; he was on a student visa trying to make a life in America. He wasn’t exactly my student but close enough that we had to keep it under the radar.
I was a newly engaged woman when he walked into my classroom almost two years from the morning that my head rests on his arm; he was an interesting man/boy that caught my attention and refused to ever let it go.
Letting my day dream seize and drifting back into reality I gently kissed his cheek and his golden yellow eyes that stop my heart and change color with his every mood flutter awake, he looked up at me through slumber filled eyes, “buongiorno” I whisper.. “Good morning,” he whispered back.
I smiled as the sunlight danced around the room, the smell of freshly brewing coffee was coming from the kitchen. I have searched the world and can’t say that I have found peace like when I wake up to this man. He kissed me and we escaped the world under a tent of sheets.
He walks me out to my car and I let him go through our routine of him starting my car and letting it warm up.
This morning I could not pull out of the driveway, my mind was somewhere else, I stared at the clock blinking red in my blue VW, wondering if 7:00 a.m. was the real time or my imagination was playing tricks on me.
(Today, it has been over two and a half years, his eyes still draw me in casing a spell on me. A romance that has never fully died and perhaps it may never. Who knows? I don’t want to understand, I just want to love and live every moment of it, where ever it goes, which ever road it may take, through the twist and turns, ups and downs, I just want him.)