Monday, January 16, 2006

about last night . . .PART II

once our friends discovered the two of us were missing the calls commenced (what did we do before cell phones?). my pity party and q&a session was cut short and i would have to take the information at face value until we reached our next destination.

at the birthday boy’s request, the party moved to a local strip club. four glasses of champagne, a dirty martini and glass of merlot later i didn’t care where we went. . . i just wanted the party to continue. the number of women in our group certainly outnumbered the men, but i felt compelled to focus my attention on my ex – there is something about being in a room with a former lover as he watches naked women dance that forces a woman to want to please him at any cost.

mistake #2: i let him get too close . . .

at this point the intoxication has completely settled in and i’m vulnerable and weak. as he hands me dollar bills to tip the dancers of his choice, he whispers things to me that conjure memories of our experiences – all ten years of experience. by this time i’m so wrapped up in him and the surreal feelings of being surrounded by naked women i’ve lost all sense of reality and the fact that he is no longer mine to lust for.

as the club shuts down, he and i continue to talk and pick up where we left things before they went sour last year. he invades my space as only a lover should, speaks low in my ear and reclaims a territory that only he knows and i am too comfortable with him occupying. as he makes suggestions for our next moves, i force myself to take note of the gold band that he wears on his left ring finger, momentarily regain my senses, take a step back and bring the ring to his attention. this gives me enough time to walk away to find my way to the car.

unfortunately my strength was short-lived and i find myself climbing into the backseat of the car with him at my side as we’re transported to the next leg of our journey. as we ride in silence, i immediately reach for his arms as i always have, bury my head in his chest and cry soft and silent tears wishing that i could find this place every night as i had in the past. as we make our way through the streets i find myself remembering moments he and i shared during early mornings and being envious of his fiancée . . .


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