It has been forever since I smelled skin like that.
I had changed clothes after stepping off the plane, messed one last time with my hair and walked through the terminal doors. What brought me to be there, in a foreign country, it was a tense situation. Gauntlets thrown, a choice of reaching back to something that I once needed so desperately or pulling away and heading towards something unknown, something that was safe and comfortable. I was way too far from home, in need of a shower, and walking my gigantic bag towards Utah.
I made excuses to leave, after weeks of the YES/NO sea-sawing I put my foot down, I was risking it. I was throwing caution to the wind and leaving. And there he was to meet me at the airport, my ex, the pain I have had to survive, the light of my life, the love I lost, the anger I let get the best of me. There he was in his jacket and smile, and I, like a child, walked towards his open arms and was lost.
We both needed to know, we were both standing in the way of everything else, even if we didnt intend to be. Sure, there would always be unfinished emotions between us, but could we make it? The grand gesture was nice but what came before it… well, what came before it was a grotesque show of just how cruel a person could be. And I suppose that was what did it. All the eMailing came to a head and I said NO, I was done, I needed to never hear from him again, I had reached my end; finally. All i had done was lay my cards out on the table, I had told him that I could not go along with his plans. I had been so scared to tell him what I was feelign and the second I did he lashed out, told me things that I didnt need to know, and I thanked him. I had been wondering just when I was going to reach my end and I was so glad he had cleared that up for me. Communication ended. Or, so I thought.
I get an eMail containing directions, ticket numbers, a wire of a thousand dollars, all to be used at my discretion. I could go and meet him in Prague, or not. It was “come to me or fuck off” and that is what I wrestled with for weeks. To go or not. On one hand he was a prick, he broke me over and over again, I never knew quite where I stood with him and invariably wherever I decided I wanted to be was wrong. On the other hand, he had quit his job in Iraq after my last eMail, he was coming home, we loved each other, no matter the pain we have always loved. ::sigh:: So, I got my passport and still I wrestled. Id like to say that my ole’ man was a huge consideration but he was not, this thing proving once again to be bigger than anything it comes into contact with, and that is why I was in a car, zipping through side streets, looking in eyes that I once held with reverence and I was confidant. I was, for a while at least.
The problem with all consuming love is that it destroys all around it and one must adjust to life living in an inferno. One must also learn to hold ones breath for an ungodly amount of time just to survive. That first night in the flat in the middle of Old Town, I held all the cards. I was all kings and queens and jacks, aces and spades and even an Old Maid thrown in for good measure. He shed tears after we kissed the first time, he held onto me the way one clings to a dying dream, and I ate up every last second of it. Vindication. You asshole, this is what you could have lost.
Sinners
We had lazy days of wandering the city, conversations that were painful, long moments of silence that seemed to tear the very soul out of my chest, but in between that we allowed our self to enjoy each others company, we held hands, we kissed, we closed our eyes at the mere touch of the others hand. This is what we could have lost. So we extended teh travel plans. What was supposed to be 6 days of soul searching turned out to be an entire month of country hopping. It could have gone wrong at any moment I suppose, there were vital seconds where it could have taken a dive but we stepped away from the ledge and headed the other way. We cried in each others arms and we laughed the night away in tiny hotel rooms. I have my best friend back. Every day I was more and more thankful for that but as the nights faded to day I began giving away my cards, slowly, unknowingly. Suddenly I had nothing, I was bare and feeling insecure again. I needed a reality check so once we reached Germany I grabbed the phone and called a friend who I grew up with. I had spent weeks talking to no one but Utah and sitting in the hallway of a friends house whispering angry words into her VoIP phone I began to slowly feel like myself again. Later that night the boys went go cart riding and Liz and I headed out to walk around, eventually finding ourselves at a dimly lit Italian restaurant where we shared a bottle of wine and bared the darkest parts of our hearts.
The last few days in Germany were slow and sad. Reality was seeping back in and we were making plans to head back to teh States. He would kiss my face in the morning, run his hands through my hair and blink at me. And so Tuesday we said our goodbyes at the airport and rushed to make the last flights. We made it, back to the US, back to the car rental place, back to the front door of his house in Denver, … and then I paused. THis was the last place we were together before he deployed. This is the house that caused so much pain right after he left and strained every relationship I had back then. This house brought that all back. But it was late, too late to be worrying abotu such things, so we tip-toed through the hallways and crawled into the bed that began it all, and there we made love before falling into a deep sleep.
I have not told my soon-to-be-not ole’ man that Im back in the States, selfishly Im avoiding any confrontation until Utah flys back to his family’s house tomorrow. On this trip I have done a lot of thinking about what I want and what I dont. I want to re-marry. I want kids. I dont want to be with someone who smokes. I dont want to be with someone who drinks all the friggin time. I want to settle down and not live in a party day in and day out. I want a real life. I dont want to be someones everything. I want to be someones someone.
It is snowing out and Im missing Utah, who is at the post office. Im missing the scent of his skin and the touch of his lips. I suppose it should be no surprise that this comes back around. I suppose it has been no surprise to find that it never really left.
