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Not tonight.

My heels began to sink into the firmness of the mattress. My hips moaning and settling from agony to comfort. I grimace; by the catch in her breath, she realizes how much today was pain.

Keeping my eyes closed, I feign relaxation, possibly the beginning fringes of sleep. But I am listening to her movements; seeing clearly the path she makes going around the room even though my eyes are closed. I sigh.

With rightful purpose, I feel her solid weight depress the side of the bed. Pause. I know she is looking down at me – wondering. I stiffen and she crosses over the middle of my body, gently; never touching me or disturbing the bed much. She places her head on my extended thigh, curling her legs and arms onto themselves. She will settle her head, looking to the direction of my chin and wait. She will wait like this until she is sure that I am asleep.

I wonder, as her ear is pressed into my thigh if she can hear it like I do? The way my body creaks from the pain that sears it? I wonder if she can hear the screams of the muscle fibers that die, never to be replaced? I wonder if she can hear the groans I stifle because it feels like a slow smoldering fire has been lit beneath my skin on nights like these?

“Hey…” Her raspy, certain voice calls me from my thoughts and I beg my eyes not to open, lest the deluge begin.

“Yes…?” as I extend my hand to reach her face and I feel her jaw, firm, set within my cupped palm. She moves, hovering over me and I can feel the smell of her hair and the heat of her wash over my neck, flush over my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I find her concern melt to a smile. I find myself parting my lips, if just to kiss her soul.

“…I remember the first time we…” She begins…

We invited each other out to dinner, sipping one bottle of wine between us. Blind date mishap and looking for something to do, I went, she went and the conversation played a violin/piano concerto that we alone haphazardly wrote. She had had a good enough time and I, felt certain that we would not meet again. But it was the second evening that proved me wrong. There I was at home, giving some inane response to meet her for tea, ummm, well how about the coffee house, down the road from where I live? Perfect, I’ll see you then.

As I arrived I found she had been sitting by the window, her cup of brown liquid in hand, watching me come in. Medium, tight ebony curls were straining against a worn headband. She had this look on her face that I saw at the time as manic but that I would grow to understand meant revelation. She went to speak and scrunched her face. I, reserved, held the cup of tea loosely in my hands, warming them.

“ I don’t want to stop thinking about you.” Looking up to meet my gaze, her minds workings parted to betray her sudden measure of clarity.

“Hmmm…” a nervous half smile borrowed my lips. Catching herself, she realized that maybe, this, was too much too soon too fast.

“How ‘bout you think about that some more? ” She looked at me quizzically,

“That’s all I’ve done for two days. ”

“…first kissed. I thought I was going to die!” She laughs now, embarrassed that she could be so foolish to think that.

“You made me wait so long! I’ve never done that for anyone else – wait as long as I did. I’m glad I don’t have to wait anymore…”

I smile, smugly, appreciating these moments that we share.“It wasn’t that long.” I tease. I am sure my teeth show with this smile; though by her blissful stare you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if they hadn’t.

With her eyes asking my lips to meet for a dance, she half closes her own eyes to gently meet my lips. Soft, careful and she hesitates, not sure if this is what I want, now. Not sure if this would be a moment to impose her desire on my resting. She told me that once and I have never been sure what she has meant by imposition.Unable to elevate my arms to pull her neck closer to me, I moan weakly, causing her lips to meet mine, her tongue to slowly part my lips, search past my teeth, to join up with its waiting partner in crime. It feels like she is pulling me into another space in time and I can only wonder how it is that I should continue to breathe.

“ But wait!! How are you just gonna leave like that? Didn‘t you hear what I said? ”

Her medium legs make strong strides to keep up with me.

“ I heard what you said. ” I just don’t feel like believing it at the moment, I think to myself. She stands in the middle of the parking lot as the wind presses her white shirt onto her skin. Dips and ridges from her tight belly make impressions on the unwitting material. Her breasts heave from her breathing and remain concealed beneath the layer of sports bra and shirt. I find myself staring and I look away.

Striding to me, I hear the parachute material of her army cargo pants skiff skiff skiff towards me. I raise my head and stare into her face.

“Xochilt, you’ve known me all of … ONE date. ”

I pause, measuring my words against the venom that began to climb the back of my throat.

“One date and I honestly do not believe that you just cannot stop thinking about me. Usually how it goes is, we go out, you say you had a great time and you’ll call. I don’t wait by the phone and you don’t call.” My eyebrows knit together.

“So I’m telling you that I think this could be something and you’re upset? ”

I get closer to her, sarcastic smile in tow,

“No Xochilt, I’m not upset. I got what I wanted: a date. There doesn’t have to be any more than that. You don’t have to anything after the other night. Really. ” I back away, turning to leave.

Back over my shoulder, her face falls in disbelief, fists clenching in defeat.

It was enough. Things had evolved the way they have and it was enough for me to now just have dates. It made it less messy when the rejections came later. They always had.

This is more than I expected and I didn’t think things were like this and this is not something that I am ready for. The phrases that were always used to let me know that it was not me, it was the implications of the genetically, imperfectly made muscle proteins that ripped and withered and died beneath my skin, that was the problem.

Of course.

But I shouldn’t have been so bitter. No. I shouldn’t have wanted more than the respect that the elderly and young were due. No. Of course, I always understood and no, I’ll be fine and hey, you gave it a try – I’ll be okay. And it was enough, because I was beyond 11pm tears growing cold on my cheeks in the dark with no one to wipe them and no desire on my part to make them ease away.

The roses began to appear. One on my door at home. Three on my desk at work. Two at the grocery counter when I went to do my shopping. No messages clogged my machine. No letters busied my mailbox.

“What are you doing? ” She waits.

“What you won’t allow me to do with your permission. ”

“Xochilt, do you know how creepy this is? Everywhere I go, there you have been, leaving things behind for me? Do you know how un-nerving that is? ”

“But you didn’t call anyone else. You knew it was me. ”

“Why are you making this so difficult? ” She laughs lightly into the phone.

“It wouldn’t be difficult if you didn’t have feelings for me as well. Look, if you tell me the word this moment, I won’t bother you any more. I took a chance on this being creepy, since you didn’t want to give me a chance at the coffee shop. But now that you called me, I want to ask you what you wouldn’t let me ask before- Can we have another date? ”

Unknowingly, her steady hand cups my breast and I catch my breath. Her lips break from mine to suckle my nipple through my night dress fabric. Arching my neck back, I feel her slip her free hand to the middle of my back as she pulls me to her. I whimper and the tears collect at the edges of my eyes.“Ahhh… hhmmmm” She helps me to sit up and I take her face between my palms. Unable to continue to kiss, I cry into her cheek.

The months went on to three, just dates.

“You’re scared. ”

I look up from looking into my hands. “Yes, I am.”

She takes my shoes off and begins to rub the nightly swelling from my feet. We sit in long silence.

“I want to talk to you. I want to know what is here … ” She reaches for my heart.

“Here is scared too. Here and I have a lot of pieces to put together if things don’t work out. ” I shift in my chair. More out of nerves than necessity.

She begins to move upward on her course, I place my hand on hers.

“Thank you, my feet feel better. Maybe it’s time you go home now. ”

“Every time we get to this point, you always feel like I have to go home. ”

She stands with her hands on her waist. “If that is what you want, I will go home. But just know that sending me home won’t stop me from wanting you, from loving you.” Resignation creeps into her sigh.

“Take it back! ”

“What are you talking about? ”

“What you said just now, take it back! ” Anger floods my cheeks.

“I won’t. ”

“You don’t love me. Take it back! You don’t really mean it! You don’t know what you’re saying! Take it back! ” The hysteria in my voice rises and she kneels in front of me, placing her strong hands on the backs of mine. She places my face between her palms.

“I won’t because I mean it. If this is the only thing that you will take from me, then the only answer I will give you now or ever is that I love you and I want the chance to show you. I want you to understand what me loving you means to me. ”

“You can’t, you can’t love me! When the first doctors’ appointment comes or when you’ll have to take care of me because I get sick or when you get tired, you’ll leave – you won’t want to love this life together with me anymore! ”

She begins to cry into me. “I will, I will, my God I will! Is this why you’ve kept me out? Is this why you’re so scared? I am scared everyday that we are not together that you will leave me. I am scared everyday, when we’re not together that I am losing some part of you that I won’t get to know! When you send me home and I know you are in pain, it hurts me that you are too proud to let me rub your back or cuddle or even know why you pain. Do you know what you’ve done to me these past months? ”

“I’m not sure why you cry when we do. Do I hurt you?”

I shake my head.

I do not know how to begin to explain. I do not think that she understands that before she came, this body was not touched. This body bought pleasure to no one. I did not fully exist, breathe, want before she sought me out. Not to the degree that I have and now that I do, I cry when we make love, for all the moments when I thought I never would be touched. I cry for all the nights that met me unfeeling, unchanged.

I cry because she loves me.

© 2004 Sandra