I've written at length about my time with Fred. How much he meant to me and how he's helped me through some hard times. I've also touched on how freakishly sexy he is. Crazy thing is that despite it all, what amazes me most is how much he's mine. He may be on the other side of the country, but I'm in a special place in his heart and that amazes me. It shouldn't though. I'm certainly old enough to know that looks only determine a small amount of where, who, or what a person is. But it never ceases to amaze me to know that someone as good-looking as he is manages to be drawn to plain old me.
I've been having a hard time lately, as I've had to deal with not having anyone of substance around. My 23-year-old "friend" is still around but at times I have to remind myself that he's still a kid. He's also busy as hell, as am I so although I see him regularly on campus, our time is fleeting. The other guy I liked on campus actually had a girlfriend that I'd learned about through a 3rd party, so his ass was exed. Briefly thought that Ted and I would be rekindling things, but that turned out to be a bust as well. Granted, I still got quality sex, on occasion, but I missed being held. Not just held, but loved.
I missed rolling around in sheets with a man that loves and knows me. Penis can be found anywhere, but to find a man that understands and deals with my quirks isn't easy.
Last month, I guess the winter weather got to me. I had a few extra dollars and I figured I'd take the plunge and go see Fred. I didn't want sex. I needed to be held, and I was willing to go to the opposite coast just for that purpose. I texted Fred in the middle of the night and told him that I'd be flying to see him in March. He responded that he'd be in Atlanta in March and that he couldn't wait to see me either. My heart was aflutter. Fred? Here? He was here a year ago for the first time in nearly 4 years, and to see him a mere year later seemed like a dream.
I tried numerous times to clean my home to the specification of an important house guest, but the fact is that working, motherhood, school, interning and extracurriculars at school make cleaning nearly impossible. But still, I tried. The night he got in, I came in a few minutes before him, hoping to get things together even more. He called me and asked me to come outside and flag him down so he'd know what apartment I was at. I ran to the door and there he stood.
I hugged him like my life depended on it. There he was. Not a pic in my phone, not a Facebook image, him, in the flesh, hugging me back as tight as I hugged him. He came in, settled his items and took a shower. I lay down, and he lay down right next to me. I ran my fingers through his curly, damp hair and held his hand. I felt my soul seep back into my body. In that moment, he wasn't that fine ass dude I've drooled over for over a decade, he was the man I loved tremendously. In that moment, we shared a single bond and a single moment. Its almost like we were one person. I happened to have a playlist of some of my fave chill music, and Tevin's "Always in My Heart" spun in the background. Despite the song being over 20 years old, it was then that the song took on a true meaning. I giggled and said to him "this is our new song" as a candle flickered in the background.
Crazy enough, we weren't even having sex. We literally just sat there, next to one another. As his back faced me and I wrapped my arms around him, I gave him a peck on his back and whispered, "I love you." "I love you back" he said as he tapped my arm.
And that was all I needed. To be rejuvenated again. To be held and loved and appreciated and adored. And not by a guy that's just good-looking, but by a man who met me at my worst, but stuck with me. A man that knows my soul. A man that not only lets me hold him, but a man that anxiously wants to hold me back. I've held and loved. That was all I needed.