Breathing
How can you tell if you’re breathing? Is it the swish of the air skidding past your teeth or the verifiable truth that blood is still pumping in your veins? Or is it simply a lack of panic?
When I first got to Alabama I felt like I couldn’t breathe. There was a hysteria about me- in my work, in my sex life. I was drowning without water. After my seven bad dates I found Superman, and he calmed me down. I had New Orleans (and Coworker A), and things at work took a turn. I found a niche. I made some friends. For a few weeks I didn’t need sex as a lifeline.
I had what I can only assume was a goodbye booty call with Superman. He came over drunk one night and, with the exception of a few scattered texts, I haven’t heard from him since.
Coworker A is another story. We had been working together more often. Our building is quite tall and the top floors are empty. We ended up there with some other people simply because we were in search of a quite space. He and I went back the next day. That night, we stopped at a bar for drinks and, after fooling around in my car for a bit, he came back to my room. We fucked like animals while talking about how we wished we’d fucked on the Penthouse conference table. We made a pact to do it. Sealed with a fist bump.
Coworker A and I became good friends with Coworker J. She was fun and with her we had a good excuse to hang out in public more often. She went home for good last week though, and Coworker A went on vacation. He’s back but we’re both busy and I find myself with more alone time.
I miss my husband. I get to go home for a week on August 13. I feel like I’m not breathing again. It’s been two weeks since I last had sex. The idea of more bad dates just turns me off.
I think I’m going to go out with this new boy I met. He’s younger than me- only 23- just a baby. He reminds me of Brooklyn Dave (who I miss terribly), so maybe he’s worth a chance.
I’m stuck here until Christmas. I really wish I could find what I’m looking for and have it be stuck right along next to me.
Here’s hoping I don’t run out of air…
Notes
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pretty-wicked said:
Inhale slowly, exhale slowly, call Mr. C, and know that you can do this. Sending good thoughts and much love. Hang in there, sweetheart. <3 <3 <3 Rae
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visionaria said:
Keeping my fingers crossed for you, sweetie. You can make it through. If anyone can, it’s you.
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