Love and patience, Photo by Leighann Blackwood on Unsplash
Before the Airbnb
I had already waited five weeks, five weeks during which I had forgotten my sexuality. I needed space. I didn’t want to go out. I didn’t want to drink too much.
Yes, for the first five weeks of waiting, I forced my loneliness. Did I really need to be alone? Or was I afraid I couldn’t hold on?
I don’t know. I concentrated on writing, I withdrew a bit. And I built up hopes of finding my favorite lover.
After the AIRBNB
But after these four days, my affection, my beginning of love made the wait more frustrating, longer. The six weeks of waiting were a real mental torture, and yet I almost enjoyed the benefits.
This time, I stopped isolating myself, I tried to fill this lack of Him with an excess of friendships. This time I drank, I went out. I even slipped slightly, kissing an Argentinian at the bend in the evening. But I didn’t break down. For no matter how soft his new lips were, they didn’t have the flavor of the one I was beginning to love.
That kiss had the goodness to make me doubt, to make me believe that after Chocolate Cake might not be so bad after all.
Yes, knowing that I was still attractive, one way or another, made me think that maybe after Chocolate Cake, I would be happy to gorge myself on cookies.
But I’m not going to gorge myself on cookies until I get back to my chocolate cake. I want to keep all my hunger, all my greed, all my desire, to taste every crumb.
Strangely enough, during this period, I don’t feel the need to masturbate, or almost not at all. Or if I do, I give up porn sites, erotic stories and concentrate on him, on what I want to do to him.
Get off the phone!
During this time, I write to him. Too much. But I can’t help myself. Every unanswered message is a needle in my heart, a pair of scissors that cuts the bonds of hope to see him again.
To avoid being stubborn, I write to him in a notebook, my thoughts, my doubts, my questions.
Waiting creates doubt. Am I crazy to wait for him like this? For nothing, moreover. He’s going to leave, what’s the point?
Uncertainty freezes me
Yet I even abandoned my project to work in the mine. It’s not that I’m interested in the work, but I could have accumulated money and continued my quiet journey. Impossible, I can’t miss him, I don’t want to miss him. My heart wouldn’t forgive me. So much the worse for the money, I’m a woman of heart.
My only certainty is that he is leaving. Everything else is only hope of seeing him one last time, disillusions, temptations. With his cursed work, it is impossible to have a precise date. As shy to show my impatience and my feelings, I find it hard to ask him.
Finally, I have my answer, he comes back after a month. But before I can see him, he will have to go through an interminable fortnight of quarantine. Another fifteen days to wait. Does he want me dead?
When the quarantine is confirmed, I want to make him a box. A box so that his quarantine will be gentler. It’s easy, he’s exciting and interested in so many things. I affectionately choose books, and I complete with some sweets. I am afraid of his reaction. But I am too eager to offer him, probably his only present, to give it up.
Secretly, or not so secretly for that matter, I hope to sneak into his Airbnb during his forties.
I crack again
A few days before his arrival in quarantine, I crack again. My lips land again on those of the same Argentinean. A game of seduction begins between us. However, I push him away again. No, it won’t go any further. I did not wait until then to crack just before the finish line.
Doubts are growing however, wouldn’t it be simpler for me to abandon this completely vain quest and enjoy the sweet fruits that life hands me?
Doubts fly away
All it takes is a glance, just a moment, for doubts to vanish. By bringing him his belongings at the beginning of his quarantine, his look in mine puts an end to all the questions that dance in my mind. It is he, he is the reason for this heresy. He is worth more than all the juicy fruit in the basket.
When he sees me, he is warm and seems happy to see me. No contact. He shares his quarantine with his friend and colleague Dino. Miss Surprise, Dino’s sweetheart, and I came to bring them their things and we are supposed to leave instantly.
I don’t want to leave right away. He feels it or maybe he wants some company too. We improvise an aperitif more than three meters away. The boys in their living room, and us on the terrace. No contact, we have our own beers. Dino and Miss Surprise are a little stressed. But they let themselves go.
The evening is soft, I am hypnotized by his voice. My eyes dance from his lips to his hazelnut pupils. I have a crazy desire to stick my body to his. But I don’t have the right to do so.
The discussions are intense. And I revel in his intellect, if not in his skin.
When it’s time to leave, my heart is tight and my pants are wet. One more torture in the penitence of waiting.
Fourteen days of patience…
I think the fortnight of quarantine is the hardest. He doesn’t want to take the risk of an illegal visit. I am enraged.
I am oscillating impatiently, between the desire to see him again and the fear of not seeing him again. He is going to leave, but when? How long will I have him to myself after this long wait?
During these fourteen long days, I am close to neurosis, obsessed by the idea of seeing him again, touching him, loving him, and then losing him. I’m afraid that he won’t want to spend his last moments in Australia by my side. Once again, my fingers get a little too active on my phone keypad and the uncertainty tortures me.
The only thing I know is that he booked an Airbnb for 4 days. Is he leaving after those four days, or is he staying a bit longer? I turn around the question, not daring, as if I was afraid of the answer.
Finally, thank you sweet red wine from the Cheese and Wine evening, drunk, I ask him for 4 more. He accepts. I am so happy.
The following days, my hormones scream their impatience, I’m excited like I’ve never been before. I want this man inside me, on me, I want him all over me, I want him to be mine for a few days.
I try to keep busy, I go to see the sea lions with my friends, I enjoy the good weather, I go to the beach. But my brain can’t focus on anything else but… My chocolate cake that is almost done baking.
Finally, after almost two months of waiting, I fake sunstroke at work, and I hurry to find him for 8 days, the last 8 days, forever.