I found the perfect bed. I decided it was time to start over. So I found a beautiful white scrolled iron headboard at Pier One. It isn't the antique I've always dreamed of, but its price tag means its close enough. Now all I have to do is remove the old bed with the old lover in it. Yes, he's still sleeping in my bed.(For the record, I'm on the couch.)
In the days after I asked him to leave I found I had a raw, desperate craving for him. I was shocked that I felt anything at all for him. But this was a longing with every part of my being. I wanted him to hold me, care for me, tell me how he treasured me. Why would I need approval from this man? It was a little like being desperately thirsty in the desert and longing for a rock to pour forth water. Not going to happen. We have approached each other carefully, saying only necessary polite things and I have kept my longings to myself, knowing that it would be harmful to both of us to express them. The heart wants what it wants, I suppose. But will my heart ever grow any wiser?
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