Bed time used to be the best time.With you. Now, it’s the very worst part of my day.You are not here. I cannot kiss you, as the sign above requires.I cannot smell your freshly showered scent.I cannot caress that curve of your hip that races my heart.I cannot run my fingers across your shoulder, down…

We were together.I forget the rest. — Walt Whitman

Jogging is different now.The “scenery” used to make me smile.The “curves” never failed to excite.The sweat was somehow inviting.(The shower… eyeballed from around a corner… was… intoxicating).   I suppose I wasn’t really jogging back then.I was just walking briskly behind you, drinking in your undeniable deliciousness, pondering possibilities, being drawn in,pulse pounding, by the beautyof you.

Somewhere, way back when, I said I was looking for someone who is, “Capable of calling my bluffs and willing to do so… sometimes.”I had no idea how actually incredibly accurate that stated desire was.I need that from a woman.I need a partner.I need your insight/opinion/wisdom/perspective… even if it might sting for a minute. By…

We need to fight.Because we never did.(Until that last night.)But we should have. Now, I’m fighting to get you back.So we can fight.And get it right.And go to bed together tonight.Not to sleep… “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer…

Your hair was pulled back.A simple adjustment to your usual attirecaused problems for me:Made me want you more than I already did.Add the sparkle in your eyes (even though you were out for my blood).Throw in your smile (which sometimes slipped past the hurt I had caused you).You were pushing buttons…that could pop buttons…on my…