desire

I want to wrap you around me. Legs around my legs. Arms around my body. Your front to my back. Your lips on my neck.

I want to stretch you so thin that your skin becomes my skin until I can feel the wind on your cheek as if it were mine. I want to melt into you, pull you round me like a handknit blanket. Sit inside you with a cup of tea.

Your heat, creating my heat. My heart, pumping your blood. To feel you in my fingertips when I stretch my hands to the sky. You, filling all of my pores.

Lack

When night comes and I'm alone, I dream of you.

but it's the mornings when I miss you most.

remember those early summer mornings we had?

lazy and warm

My head in the crook of your arm and our legs intertwined.

Dawn streamed through the south east window

pure radiance.

I want that back.

No oceans and no continents between us

Just you and me,

wrapped in ribbons of light.

Sin

Peaches are sensual.

There was cult in the early 1900's from my hometown.

The Brides of Eden or the Holy Rollers or what have you. They changed their name all the time. The leader had a peach orchard. He convinced all of these women that they were the virgin mother if they slept with him. He was Jesus Christ risen again. Or so they thought.

Kiger Island was the name of their spot. The brides of Eden is the most fitting name though. So many peaches. Peaches are sexual. They have the mysterious stone in the middle. Crumpled and hard with the blood red flesh surrounding it. The yellow flesh itself is juicy and sweet. A ripe peach is a mess. It drips down your lips and always ends up all over the face and hands and shirt. The peach requires a napkin. It makes more sense that the apple in the garden of Eden would be a peach.

Apples are clean. They're not juicy, they're not colorful. They're flesh isn't soft. They're hard, crisp with a clean center. Puritan.

There are those that believe that the apple in the garden of Eden was really a pomegranate. It also makes sense. Pomegranates are also sensual. You have to rip them open to reveal hundreds of red seeds. Fertility is obvious. They're also sacred. In Judaism, there are 613 rules to follow in the Tenakh. It's said that pomegranates have 613 seeds. Also, the French word for Apple is Pomme. Coincidence? I think not.

Choice

At the brink

of wonder or disaster

we lie

with minds touching

We didn't move

We didn't dare cross that inch between our lips

So we breathed

together,

Terrified.

a crevice

stretches deep

Sound disappears

sight remains.

I held your hand,

you asked me if I liked the Leonard Cohen song,

I do, even though it's about a prostitute.

You said "Yeah, but it's sweet."

You meant sweet like peaches,

not like a new guitar.

Moving On

I'm heading back to Thailand in the morning and I will be continuing my blog. The topic will change (THANK GOD) and I'll be exploring more interesting territories. Namely, Thailand, Laos, Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia.

I don't want to say goodbye

I just said goodbye to my man in the cave. I can't think. I can't write. I haven't been writing because I haven't wanted to add validity to what I was feeling. I didn't want it to be real. If it was real, then my pain was real and then I would have to acknowledge it. I don't like getting hurt. I'm not much of a masochist. I joke that I only have month long relationships or that I used to only date men with "expiration dates." That meant that one of us was leaving in a set amount of time. It kept things light. It kept things easy. Nobody got hurt or at least, I didn't.

Now, my eyes are swollen from crying. I dated a guy with an expiration date and we both ended up hurt. He leaves tomorrow morning to go back to France and I leave on Saturday to go back to Thailand. For his last night in town, he took me out to a small reservation only restaurant. We walked along the riverfront and then he drove me home. We sat in his car for an hour. We didn't know what to say to each other. Goodbye sounded too harsh. "See you next year" was too casual. "I love you" was too much. Instead he said, "I never expected you." I never expected him either. I can't put words down or else I will start to cry again.

We only knew each other for six weeks. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. He made me feel beautiful and he made me feel strong. He said he could see my fairy wings. He told me I was beautiful in the morning when I had morning breath and messy hair. He would sneak up behind me and kiss the nape of my neck in the kitchen, at my house, around his friends, in alleyways downtown: everywhere. Last night we were sitting on the couch and he held my hands up to the light and asked me how even my hands could be adorable. We talked about our scars and how we ended up with each one. I told him about the tiny scar right underneath my chin. He held my chin, tilted it, and then kissed the scar. I didn't want to fall for him, but how could I keep myself from jumping? I thought I was only flying. Oh god, this sound like a teeny boppers angsty diary entry. This isn't me.

But this what he said to me:

"I don't want you to forget me."

"Life is all about pleasure and I want to share it with you."

"Your the best person I've met in a long time."

"Why are you so beautiful even in the morning?"

"You're really something special."

" What do you mean 'You thought you were a fairy when you were little' You're still a fairy. I can see your wings right now."

"You're magical."

"You're queen of the fairies."

"Even your hands are adorable."

"Come on a roadtrip with me."

" You made me better."

"I'm so glad I met you."

"I'll miss you more than you know."

" We didn't even have time to learn any of each other's faults."

"I love that you're so strong and you know what you want."

"I feel like I only met you a few days ago but I wish I met you at the beginning of the year."

Blech. I hate that I'm so sentimental. It took an hour for us to say goodbye. The kisses tasted of the salt of our tears. We hugged each other and sobbed. I forced myself to leave the car and he walked me to the doorway. We stood on the steps outside of my house, each of us afraid to break away. We were both a mess. He walked away and I stood on the steps. I walked in my house when he opened the car door. I stood and watched as he sat in the car for a while. I cried from behind the window and I know he was crying in his car. I say that I will visit him but I know that in a year, we'll both be different. We didn't even get a picture of the two of us together. That's how intangible our relationship was. Did we even date? It was so short. I need to wake up. A handsome french man that always know exactly what to say and do is a dream. A handsome french man that accepts that behind the 5 ft 10, blond and busty appearance of me is a quirky, nerdy girl that just wants to have adventures is a dream. He is a dream. I'm clenching my jaw right now to keep from crying again.

My friend Breanna is supposed to be here. I called her, told her she needed to come and bring a gallon of ice-cream. I don't know why she is so late.

Small Town Girl

I had a love/hate relationship with my town. I loved it. I loved the coffeeshops and the summers but I never wanted to stay here forever. I hated some of the memories I had around the town. New places were for new memories and I wanted as many new memories as possible. I left town fairly young. I went on exchange in high school and even though I did not want to come home, I did. Now though, I love my life here.

I love that I work in a homey breakfast place/ coffeeshop literally four blocks from my house. I love that I'm also four blocks from the synagogue. I like that I can run into my dad on campus. I don't see him often because our schedules are so different but I've started placing notes on the windshield of his car like parking tickets.

I run into professors that have known me since I was a year old when I am on my way to classes. My forestry professors say hi to me on the street and just earlier today, the Rabbi said " Hey Suzanne! How's it going?" as he biked past me.

Small towns are wonderful. Sometimes it's a bit like Stepford but overall I'm healthy, happy and glad that I know everyone around me. My hometown feels more like home now that I live on my own.