0021-Woman-is-Thinking
I tried. I promise. I really tried.
He was mad about me. Totally and truly.
Romantic cards filled my mailbox.
Expensive gifts graced important occasions.
Each and every anniversary remembered and celebrated.

But when night brushed its heavy ink across the sky, a blindingly bright, shadowless light fell upon us, leaving nowhere to hide.

A Blindfold?
“Don’t you want to look at me?” he would ask, his eyes betraying confused hurt.
A scarf to tie me up perhaps, so you can have your way with me?
“No! I want you to participate, not just lie there!”
Sigh.

I tried. I promise. I really tried.

After the humdrum-ho hum-humping, I would lay quietly as his contented breathing echoed through the luxurious room he ironically called, The Master Suite, unable to escape the haunting moments of my past.  Moments, uninvited, swirled around me, invisible dust-devils, preventing peace, fanning the heat that burned incessantly, the memories refusing to fade…

– elbows pressed against a wall,

– a fingernail scraping down my spine, so slowly, so agonizingly slowly,

– the black silk placed across my eyes, enveloping me in a chamber of erotic sensitivity,

– every squirm of need met with a sound, scintillating slap.

…until the sandman eventually fluttered his magical mist, sending me adrift into the world of my dark desires.

I tried.  I promise.  I really tried.

First class cabins, private jets, beautiful hotel suites in beautiful cities across the globe, fabulous food in fabulous restaurants, but mutual frustration would not be ignored, finding its voice through the sharp cracks of strained conversation, leading to the inevitable.

“But why?” he asked, a proud man begging through the gaze of hazel eyes, a Captain of Industry unfamiliar with rejection, unable to comprehend how I could possibly be walking away from such a life.

“It’s just – we are – different…” I fumbled, searching for the non-existent words

My aching addiction must be fed, my craving must be met, and you who has so much, who has more than many could ever imagine, cannot offer me the one thing I need above all else.  

“I tried.  I promise.  I really tried.”

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www.MaggieCarpenter.com

MagCarpenter@yahoo.com