2002-09-01 - 6:33 a.m.

When he is sitting at my dining room table in the late morning light, his hair mussed with little curls, his chest bare and his glasses snugly settled onto the bridge of his nose, when he picks up his cup of coffee or plucks at the keys of his computer while sitting at my dining room table in the late morning light, he reminds me of a superhero at rest. Like a Clark Kent taking a coffee break and checking his e-mail.

And when I am sitting at my dining room table in the late morning light, my hair mussed with soft curls, my chest bare with my robe tied around my hips like a wrap around skirt, sipping my coffee between sighs while watching him intently I feel like a decadent movie siren at rest. Like an Lana Turner sipping coffee after a long, sensuous night between the sheets with some strapping lead man.

When he is here I have no doubt that I will spend the rest of my life with him, there is a wave that crashes over me, warm and undulating, caressing every nuance of my being with a languid sigh of content. When he is here my smile finds way from hidden corners of my emotion, my eyes feel suddenly clear, soft and calm. When he is here I can do nothing more than look at him, at any given moment I am looking at him because he amazes me, and I cannot fill the need within me to have the vision of him locked within my mind. I want to touch him without rest, I want to place my lips upon his and never break the seal. When he is here every movement I make is beautiful, every second of time seems as though it is a moment honed and created by an artist. I can step within a beam of sunlight and see myself through his eyes, my skin kissed golden, my eyes a glow, my hair on fire with light. With him here I forget that I am scared of sharing life, I forget how my life without him was so near perfect, when he is here all I can remember is how much I want him here always.

And then he leaves. Thatís when my rational thought takes over and I begin the torture cycle of my heart, somewhere within me is a girl who is slightly jaded, slightly wary and extremely terrified by the thought of having a boyfriend. Which is what he is I guess, that is what people now refer to him as, my boyfriend, and I know that people in his world refer to me as his girlfriend. And why should that be so difficult for me to swallow? I have no problem admitting that I am in love with him, I will tell you five thousand times a minute that I am in love with him, with no falter in my voice I will tell you that. But I cannot say he is my boyfriend and I cannot call myself his girlfriend. I cannot admit that. I donít have a desire to be with anyone else, I will not go out with anyone else, I will be faithful to him, but I cannot call myself his girlfriend. This bothers me. Until today, today I finally analyzed the situation enough so I understand my reluctance.

I am scared to fall into normalcy with him. I am scared to lose my beautiful moments. I am scared of the day when he no longer seems like a superhero to me and just appears to me as a man who is sitting at the dining room table without his contacts in. And Iím afraid of the day I no longer feel like a movie siren when Iím sitting across from him. I want to be in love, I want passion, unending passion. I want the beginning phase of a relationship to never end and I will not accept anything but that....not this time. I am scared that if I call him my boyfriend we will settle into something comfortable, and then eventually we begin to get annoyed with one another, just little things. Then one day he will complain to his friends about how I never let him do this or that and I will complain to my friends that he never does this or that. Suddenly the beauty in our love will dissipate and we will just be comfortable together, a ray of sunlight will no longer make me feel beautiful because I wonít be able to see myself in that way in his eyes.

This time I am not going to let that happen. The moment ďYouíre amazing,Ē becomes, ďYouíre crazy,Ē I will end this. The moment that we become that bitter, resentful couple I will end this. I am not high maintenance, I will never ask him to take the garbage out, I will never demand anything of him...except that he feed me beautiful moments and romantic interludes on a daily basis. I want my favorite parts of each day to be the time I spent with him. I want to be one of those couples that still holds hands at ninety, I want to be one of those couples that smiles softly at one another across the room. I donít want him to ever question why he is with me, or ever think to himself, ďMaybe thereís someone else out there.Ē Iíll do my part to make sure that never happens, I just hope, because I am going to let go of my fears, I am going to give this a chance, that he will do the same.


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