Cupid and Psyche

"Things have changed," he said, buttoning the white cuffs of his french blue pinstripe shirt, "This has changed."

"I know," I answered, glancing from my computer screen, over my shoulder at him, and I notice his eyes sparkle.

"Not that the change is bad, mind you. Just....different." He re-ties his tie, blue and white with gold flecks.

French blue is a wonderful color on him with his summer tan and blond hair. He reminds me a bit of Anderson Cooper....only prettier.

Only real.

Things have indeed changed between us. There's a reality that wasn't there before--a reality that is in part due to my intense, unyielding, drive to succeed.

I am driven to prove myself as a writer. Prove I can make it out here in this space. Prove I can be something other than what I was born to be.

Every day is overdrive, and I'm no longer the willing playmate full of fun ideas.

Now, if a man wants me, he has to provide the imagination and the scenarios. He has to distract me, entertain me, touch me in a way that I can feel him...because I'm sucked up into my brain, thinking-thinking-thinking, trying to do everything right, and disconnected from my body.

Usually, I can hear him come through the rickety screen door "Hel-lo," he'll sing.

"Hi," I'll grunt from somewhere in inside my computer screen.

"Hi, how are you," he'll say nicely, trying to get my attention.

"fine. how. are. you." I answer, sometimes never turning around

I'll feel his hands on my neck. He's been an athlete and a coach. He knows exactly how to rub my neck and my shoulders...

"Do you know your back has a slight curve in your back? Lumbar region."

"Yeah, I know. Throws me off a bit..."

"But you're lucky. It's not scoliosis..." He had polio as a child, and has hip muscle problems. He walks with a slightly odd gait, but his confidence makes up for the odd walk.

His hands on my neck feel so good...and I feel his fingers in my hair, touching my face.

"Stand up," he'll say...

"I can't. I have to finish..." I want to push him away, tell him to go away, but it feels good to have someone touch me in a way no one touches me.

He moves the chair out from under me...

He swoops down on me, like Cupid on Psyche.

My body wakes up.

I am here, in this moment, alive again....