the look of love

I sat in my car waiting for 7:05 to roll around. I was meeting Lee for dinner and had planned on being at least five minutes late. At 6:55 I saw her cross the parking lot to go inside, not seeing me parked in the shadows. I decided to let her off the hook and not be late since she was early but I sat there until the clock struck 7:00 anyway. I had on my clinging black shirt, unbuttoned low that showed cleavage as well as jeans that showed ass-ssets. I had on women’s shoes with a higher heel than I normally wear. I had put on mascara that night, blown dry my hair for once and sprayed on the cologne I only wear around people I want to kiss me on the neck (–because they usually do when I have this stuff on). I was bringing out the big guns and hoping by the time I was done with her she would have long forgotten the name of the woman she had a date with the night before.

That previous evening, it was after midnight when I finally fell into bed. I plugged in my phone and lay there. She hadn’t called or texted. That must mean that her date went well. I felt despair and wanted to cry. I wasn’t sure if I could keep up the whole dating façade without getting hurt. I knew it would be a transition for me to go back to the casual dating we did prior to Savannah. Could I do it? I didn’t know. I felt that I had left a piece of my heart with her in Savannah.

I drifted off but woke up at 3:30 and checked my phone. She still hadn’t called or texted. I flipped to my email and sure enough, she had emailed me. I glanced through it and was comforted enough to finally be able to roll over and fall into a real sleep that time. A few hours later my alarm went off and I went into the kitchen to do my morning routine. After getting out of the shower and combing my hair I saw that another email from her had come in as well as two texts.

I put gel in my hair and took a sip of my coffee before reading the second email. It gave me pause. She had written something to the extent that the whole night all she could think about was wishing she were with me and not her ‘date’.

“You’re damn right you wished you were with me.” I thought, taking another sip of coffee. Despite being comforted by her emails and texts operation cat string was still going into play. Plus, I needed some time to get a grip on my feelings a little better.

Later, I finally texted her back answering her “Good morning” with a “Morning” and a “yes went dancing last night” to her question and left it at that. I wasn’t going to give her much.

“Can you talk right now?”

[Me waiting a good 15 minutes before responding]

“No, I have a meeting.”

“Ok, maybe later?”

[No answer from me] Much later after I made her stew all day in silence we talked and firmed up our dinner date for the next evening.

I walked to the side door of the bar and saw her look up at me when I came through the door. We locked eyes and I knew I had her even before I slid into the seat next to hers. It was Savannah all over again.

“You look hot. I’ve missed you so much” She said kissing me.

After our kiss I just smiled at her and thought, “Oh, the power of operation cat string and a little mascara.”

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