True Romance

A new month. I woke up freezing. I don’t want summer to end. Winter is depressing. It’s so cold and dreary.

I’m laying in bed watching True Romance. I love this movie. Alabama and Clarence. We share the same name. People think I’m so cold but I’m not. I love deeply, like her. I just don’t show it. Where is my Clarence? The beginning monolog gets me every time. So now I’m siting here, writing and crying.

Robbie got the panties I sent him. He texted me asking if I had sent him panties with about ten question marks. I told him I wanted to brighten his day, make him laugh. He said it worked, said how are you and then good night in the same text. I didn’t bother to reply. I haven’t heard from him. I need to let it go but it’s so hard.

Grace and I are going to see Bush, The Cult and Stone Temple Pilots tonight. I’ve bonded with her again. More than we ever did in high school. I think I’ve told her more than I’ve told any one in a very long time. We were joking about miracles happening and how fun it would be to marry Robbie and Parker. We’d be sister’s.

I think hanging out makes us both feel younger again. Both of us had to grow up so fast. Now, here we are, in our 40’s with grown kids. I’m a widow and I think she is dissatisfied with her life too. Maybe not dissatisfied. Bored, maybe, like me. You get to a point where you wonder if this is it? I get up and go to work, pay my bills and do it again the next day. I go to concerts and games and the movies and lunches. It’s fun. I enjoy my life now more than I have in a long time. But I’m restless. I feel like I’m missing out.

I want someone to love me. To worship the ground I walk on. To live and breathe me. To want to be with me all the time, to not be able to help himself around me, to drag me into bed whenever possible, to sing me songs and tell me that I’m beautiful.

I don’t need a man. I’m really fine on my own. But I’m lonely and I crave intimacy. I miss someone’s body heat next to me at night and cuddling up against their back. I miss someone’s arms squeezing me tight at night.

But not just anyone. That’s the problem….


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