Where She Started

– She was bored, or tired of so much company. It had been several months and she wanted what she had started with. She liked waking in the middle of the night to silence, rather than his deep breathing and his warmth burrowing into her, as his cheek rested on her bare shoulder. She had enjoyed all those nights of sleeping in the nude, and just resting, as free as the day of her birth. It wasn’t that he couldn’t help it or that he wouldn’t. But even for her, there was something about that type of proximity which made the temptation hard to resist. And it was fine at first, that kind of honeymoon stage of the relationship if you will. But as the weeks wore on, it was really more his pomegranate than hers, and so she started wearing sweats, a sports bra, and an over-sized shirt to bed. She missed the birthday suit, especially on warm nights. She missed waking and feeling rested. There was something about sharing her bed which always diminished how well she slept. This was what their first argument was about. Not his leaving the toilet seat up, or his leaving his socks where ever they fell, or his putting the milk carton back empty; these things didn’t help, but it was over sleep, and the lack of, and his feeling pushed away by her new bedtime attire. So she decided that was it. She wanted her bed back. She wanted sleep back. The problem was she had warmed to him. Like a new puppy which at first tears up your shoes and nibbles at the couches she had really warmed up to him. And as she looked at him, over breakfast, on the morning she was making up her mind, she couldn’t help but feel bad. How could she just put him out to fend for himself? That morning, as they ate breakfast, she broke it down for him. He looked at her, hurt at first, but then quizzically. She explained how this would happen and how she felt she had to wait until someone took him in. Then they walked down to the coffee shop where they had first met, she looked at him and felt a tugging in her heart. She sat him at one of the outdoor tables and hid behind the bushes. She watched as people came and went. Couples passed by, oblivious to him. A group of girls from the local college exited the coffee shop and one of them stopped and looked him over. Behind the bushes, she felt a tinge of envy, but then the girl ran off and caught up with her friends. She whispered to them and they all made faces. She couldn’t help but feel a little upset as if they were making fun of him. She was so caught up in this thought, that she almost missed the gay man approaching. She could sense his intention. She quickly leapt over the bushes and hollered at the man, “he’s not for you…hey!…he’s not.” Confounded the man turned and broke into a full on sprint. She looked him over as if to make sure he was still all right. She had second thoughts, but quickly brushed them aside. He simply smiled at her, as she returned to her hiding spot. When she had positioned herself and looked out past the bushes, she saw that he was now gone. She couldn’t help to feel a little sad. But also a little pleased with herself. Most girls simply kick them out she thought, as she made her way back to her quiet empty apartment.