Always and Forever

She was young when she realized she needed to free herself from the protection of her parents. She was working, loved her job and spending too much money and clothes and clubs and what nots. It was a fury of rage that motivated her to make the decision to rent her first apartment. She barely made enough to support her social happenings, and she worried about the sacrifices she must make to have her own space, but it would be worth it.

She dated a man whom she would later realize, fulfilled her in ways never known to be imaginable. He was sweet, sensitive, an attentive listener, knew what she liked and did not like, took care of her, embraced her family, and was willing to make their relationship the focus of their future. She had no idea how good he treated her until later relationships would prove that he was exceptional, not the norm.

She moved into the apartment. A one bedroom, which smelled of stale smoke, and its occupants more the single parent family type and older people, than people her age. But it was cheap. It was $350 a month. She could rent that space and still shop at Victoria’s Secret. So she took it.

Her parents were there to support, helping her move the hand me downs she had accumulated from friends and family when they heard of her choice to claim her independence. It would be a modest space. A pea green couch sectional, a full size bed and bed spring, with a mattress frame but no headboard and footboard. A ginormous dresser from the 70’s and a Kmart bookshelf which she adorned her 19’ TV.

J and she were madly in love. They were excited about the prospect of her new space because their sexual life was intense, active and explorative. They fantasized the weeks before the move about what their lives would be like. He was not going to move in, but they both knew that he would always be there. Knowing he would be at that apartment often gave her further strength in her fear of being alone…she knew he would be there whenever she needed him.

It was a few months she lived in that apartment before the first Valentine’s Day came around. J and she had simple plans. He was going to come over after work and school, she was going to get out of work early, make dinner and surprise him with a few treats. She left work at 3pm and went to the local grocery to pick up the fixing up a chicken breast dinner. J and A were lean, they ate healthy and only overindulged sexually.

She prepared the meal and left it in the stove. It was not what mattered most. What mattered most was her preparing herself for him. She wanted to take his breath away when she opened the door. She wanted him to forgo the dinner and move straight to dessert. She had brought herself a black silk thong, a black bra to match and a silk robe. Along with that she wore thigh high stocks, stiletto heels, red lipstick, curled her blonde locks and kept her eye makeup simple, just enough to make her eyes striking; showing off how green they were. She took a long hot shower, cleaning her canvas and preparing her body for the work of art she wanted to become for him. She covered every inch of her skin in his favorite lotion, it was sweet and it reminded him of her. He often liked it when her scent was left on him after a night of passion, him rushing to work and not having the time to take a shower, but the benefit being he could taste her and smell her the next day and call her to reminisce of the night past.

Her stomach was doing flip flops in anticipation of seeing his face when he opened the door. She knew he would be early; he could never help himself from wanting to see her. It was still early when she heard the rap on the door. The lights were off, the candles were burning, and the table was set. She took a final peek in the mirror, checking things front sideways and back, ensuring that every inch of her was just as she intended for him. She walked to the door, working to adjust her emotion to passion rather than showing the excitement that overcame her. She opened the door, their eyes met. He was standing there in his suit, a relatively expensive suit that he could made look like its worth a million bucks. He was holding red roses, and a box of chocolates, and he smelled like himself. He saw her, and couldn’t help himself. He walked in, took her by the waist and did not spend anytime presenting her with his gifts, but rather placed them on the foyer table…it was not to bother. He grabbed the back of her waist, pulled her close to him and tasted her, deeply. His hands floating over her skin. Whispering to her how beautiful she looked and how she made him feel. She melted in his arms, the passion overcoming her, and then the sweet surrender.

Happy Valentines Day J. My heart will always be with you.

You made me feel like a woman.