onlysweetpea
Bluelighter
Last night I discovered the wonders of top shelf vodka. I had five too many Grey Goose Martini's and I've managed to NOT be hungover. I don't know if this is a good discovery or a highly dangerous one.
I'm finding it hard to have willpower in the alcohol direction. When someone offers, when someone pays, it's ultimately hard to say no.
After appetizers and drinks at a shiny warehouse-y restaurant/bar near the ballpark, my boy and I hopped the train to Cole Valley, a beautiful, quaint part of town not too far from my hood. We walked down tree laden streets, past small hardware stores, creperies and New England type pubs that remind me of when I lived in Boston. We walked hand in hand. We stooped on the steps of a house that wasn't ours but we imagined it was, in all its Victorian grandeur. We kissed on dark street corners and pet several puppies and waved to those sitting on porch swings enjoying this heavenly weather...like we lived there, like this was ours too and this dream of boy, of house and home and a perfectly manicured trellis leading to the rosy glow of our bedroom was all I ever wanted in the world.
I watched him as he inspected a cherry blossom tree, the way it was planted, the shape of the branches (it's sorta his thing, this tree business) and I pictured how pretty our baby would have been, how smart and considerate and loving. I pictured a crazy mess of black hair and olive skin, small dark eyes and for a baby, the most mischievous grin.
I’m trying to hold myself back from wanting too much right now.
Settling into bed, resting my cheek into the hollow of his chest, I rubbed myself against him for there is nothing I love more than smelling him on me the next day, carrying him with me onto the bus, down Market St., sitting in my office, like an apparition, a ghost on your skin, making the moment last longer than it actually was.
I wonder if this is what it’s like to be in love.
Today my heart is so full, it may burst.
I'm finding it hard to have willpower in the alcohol direction. When someone offers, when someone pays, it's ultimately hard to say no.
After appetizers and drinks at a shiny warehouse-y restaurant/bar near the ballpark, my boy and I hopped the train to Cole Valley, a beautiful, quaint part of town not too far from my hood. We walked down tree laden streets, past small hardware stores, creperies and New England type pubs that remind me of when I lived in Boston. We walked hand in hand. We stooped on the steps of a house that wasn't ours but we imagined it was, in all its Victorian grandeur. We kissed on dark street corners and pet several puppies and waved to those sitting on porch swings enjoying this heavenly weather...like we lived there, like this was ours too and this dream of boy, of house and home and a perfectly manicured trellis leading to the rosy glow of our bedroom was all I ever wanted in the world.
I watched him as he inspected a cherry blossom tree, the way it was planted, the shape of the branches (it's sorta his thing, this tree business) and I pictured how pretty our baby would have been, how smart and considerate and loving. I pictured a crazy mess of black hair and olive skin, small dark eyes and for a baby, the most mischievous grin.
I’m trying to hold myself back from wanting too much right now.
Settling into bed, resting my cheek into the hollow of his chest, I rubbed myself against him for there is nothing I love more than smelling him on me the next day, carrying him with me onto the bus, down Market St., sitting in my office, like an apparition, a ghost on your skin, making the moment last longer than it actually was.
I wonder if this is what it’s like to be in love.
Today my heart is so full, it may burst.
