– She was pregnant, at least, that’s what she said in the message she left you. Your immediate response, logically, was to add up the weeks since you last saw her, or more accurately, since you last copulated. She was the one who would always use euphemisms. She always hoped you would ‘make love,’ ‘dance in the sheets,’ ‘dance in the nude,’ or ‘join your bodies as one.’ To you, it was always just sex. Sometimes you wanted her more, sometimes you wanted her less. Sex, you always wanted about the same. You’d humor her. When she’d call it making love and give herself to you in a trusting way, when she’d seductively invite you to dance in the sheets with her, when she would nudge her way into your arms and allow you to hold her tightly wanting you to join your body to hers. All things depend on mood, and how you responded to her was dependent on mood as well. Sometimes she wouldn’t have to nudge her way into your arms, but instead would warm to the idea as your arms brought her closer and she rested her head on your chest and listened to the beating of your heart. Sometimes the dance between you in a moment would inspire her to dance in a different way with you. Sometimes, when in the midst of a moment, trust was thick between you, the acts that followed felt a little different. They all ended the same however, they all ended. It was a finite act, after all. And sometimes the sense of uniqueness would linger, sometimes it wouldn’t. And as you listened to her message for the fifth time, you couldn’t help but wonder what it was when she got pregnant, as she would be certain about something like that.
- 183
- 0