Guest Blog: Found
Topic: Belle de Jour
Oh no! I'm blogging too late! So now it's technically Sunday, and that means a day has been missed on the blog.. Sorry, Vanessa... But I will try to make up for it.....
I always knew I would meet her. Eventually. Yes, I had made mistakes. Thought that I'd found her, then discovered I had been wrong all along. But I always knew she was still out there. Waiting for me to find her. I always kept that hope: kept on looking.
The first time we met, I had been so nervous that I hadn't eaten for three days. I was living on adrenaline and nicotine, hoping my stomach would calm down enough to give me at least a fighting chance of not looking exhausted. And malnourished. I needn't have worried: she looked exactly the same. As soon as I saw her, I began to laugh. A hearty chuckle born out of relief and an end to weeks of longing. She wound down the window.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing. You just look as nervous as I am." She blushed, her top lip curling into that point I now know so well, and told me to "Get in you silly bugger"
The drive to my house seemed to take an age. Every traffic light on red, every crossing busy. And she was nervous - missing gears and jumping on the clutch. I tried not to look at her, to ease her nerves, but I couldn't help it. Here she was. With me. After all this time. I wanted to remember every minute. Soak up every second with her.
We dumped her bag in my room and, both suddenly shy, moved into the kitchen.
"How was the drive, then?" I asked. A normal, nothing question to try and calm both our nerves.
"Oh, you know. Ok."
She smiled at me. "Could murder a cuppa though."
I jumped at the chance of having something to do. Something to take my mind off the way she was making me feel. Just by being there. Leaning against the wall looking at me.
"White, half a sugar, right?" I hoped I'd got that right. I had heard somewhere that it was important to remember these things - like how someone took their tea and coffee. It meant something important, though what could be more important than just being with her right then, I couldn't for the life of me remember.
"Well remembered", she exclaimed. She sounded impressed. I hoped she was. I grinned to myself as I filled the kettle.
She moved to the window.
"Lovely view" she giggled.
"Mm" I mumbled, not meaning the wall of the yard she was looking at, but the view of her, in my kitchen, leaning over the sink to get a better look at the yard.
"Oh my God! We so have the same cd collection! I have almost all of these albums. That's freaky."
The tea made, biscuits produced, we had moved back to my room and she was examining everything on display. As if, by knowing what was contained within those walls, she would know me completely. She soon gave up: the only thing anyone could conclude from the jumble of artefacts in my room is that I am a person who collects 'stuff'.
But she was devouring the cd collection like it was full of treasures. Like a little girl in a toyshop.
"Can you put this one on? Please?" She handed me a Kristin Hersch cd. "I've not heard this one. Thanks"
I removed some random home-made compilation from the cd player and put her cd in. The Hi-fi refused to play. Typical. I pressed some buttons, jiggled the cd around, not wanting to seem the kind of person who would shout at an inanimate piece of machinery.
"Oh, nothing. It's not playing. Does this sometimes."
I decided to hit the damned thing anyway and she laughed.
And then. Then she did something I will never forget. She moved up behind me. I felt her getting closer. She put her hands on my waist, then slowly, she moved them into the pockets of my jeans. I must have groaned. Or gasped. Or both. I don't remember. I just remember that wonderful feeling. I was afraid my legs were going to buckle and fail me. So I moved. Turned around to face her. She had that grin on her face. Like she knows she's 'got' me, and I don't need to say anything. Because she knows exactly how I'm feeling.
"I, er, ", I gasped.
"Shhhh", she implored, pressing her finger to my lips. I began to move my lips again, to say something, but she shook her head, so I stopped.
And then she kissed me.
Looking into my eyes, she stood on tippy-toes, and she kissed me.
Softly. Slowly. Brilliantly. Passionately. It was a kiss like I had never experienced before.
It was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her closer. She didn't resist, and I felt her buckle under the weight of what we were feeling.
She pulled her lips away and looked at me. Just looked, mouth open, for a few seconds. (though it felt like an age) And began to speak.
"I have wanted to do that for so long. I thought today would never come."
And right then, as she spoke, I could see my plans, the future I had mapped out, drift away, like a morning mist which, when cleared, reveals the most beatiful droplets of dew.
And I knew then, as she smiled at me, that I had finally found who I was looking for.
Well, I hope that 'cuts it' as a worthy post on the esteemed blog of Vanessa. I shall probably *not* be asked to return (he he).
I have enjoyed messing with your mind :o)