Dear Diary,

I thought of him tonight. He pops into my head at the oddest of times and when it happens, what I remember of him is often strange and small. Well, they would seem small to someone else but for me it packs a punch- something deep that caves my gut inward, threatening to possess my entire body.

I thought of the time my perfume threw him into a state of frenzy. He said so as he buried his face into the small pouch of my belly. Who says things like that… “your perfume throws me into a state of frenzy”? He does. He did, anyway. We aren’t lovers anymore, so he isn’t saying much of anything these days. But it’s those kinds of thoughts that make me miss him.

Sneaking away on Sunday evenings, flying into the orange blue sky of a setting sun. Making up some lame story to get away from my boyfriend at the time, but who is now my husband; stories I knew he didn’t buy but didn’t care because all I wanted was to get back to my lovers face in the pooch of my belly. Back to his whispering sentences you only read about in romance novels.

I remember him breathing in my essence; taking my soul through his mouth. Tasting every part of it with his tongue. That night, it was a Sunday night, I could smell his cologne. The heat from his body buckled my knees, enervated me and I leaned forward over him as he buried his face into my belly. I wrapped my arms around his head. Felt the softness of his hair.He could make a river flow from my body before he ever entered.

As you know, I am often times inclined to hyperbolic thoughts of doubt and faithlessness. I would pretend to stand aplomb in his presence but in reality, I divorce from hope and blessed assurance. I could feel his love for me. I was thinking I could feel his love for me (I smile), yet I suffered severe moments that were plagued with doubt.

He wouldn’t say something he didn’t mean, would he?

Would he?

I never knew the answer.

Then the lines within the colors of dreams and reality begin to blend. The two bleed over one another, distorting the truth until nothing was left but a question answering other questions. What is the truth?

Well… it’s over between us now so what was the truth? Guess it don’t matter much these days.

I don’t trust. Never did. I loved him, this I know and still to this day I embrace the sweet words of my secret lover. I still swim in the great sea of his Aquarian-ruled affection and adoration for me. Yes he still reaches out for me every blue moon. I’m married now, so a blue moon is all we may have of one another.

And though we are over, I smile myself back to sleep after I awaken from those quickening thoughts that leave my thighs slick with thin rivers of the past. I smile because I can’t justifiably say nothing became of “us”. How can I say that when I’ve experienced the beauty of loving him, though we are star crossed?

The experience of love can never hold regrets.

Love,

Just a Girl and Her Memories