Sculpted Memories

I'm sitting here in The Gratitude Cafe where for once it's quiet, and I'm alone. This doesn't happen much because everybody stops in here. There are a lot of people walking around the square right now and pausing every time they pass the French doors.

Right now neon colored 30s are hanging all around the room because Maria Alvarez is throwing herself a birthday party tonight. All those making the preparations just took off to go to Sauce for dinner. This is a fascinating concept to me considering there's a dining room table here filled with food and coolers overflowing with alcohol. Really, I'd be scratching my head at the moment if my fingers weren't so busy typing.

Maria's iPod is playing Barry White right now. It zooms my thoughts right to my conversation with a lovely man this morning. We haven't known each other very long, but from the moment we met there was a real knowingness that something was different about our connection. From the very first time he turned to me and struck up a conversation there was a spark that ignited.

We sculpted beautiful memories together the month before I moved from Steamboat Springs, Colorado to McKinney, Texas, and then the phone calls fell away. My life took off with lightning speed with exciting new adventures. I started new careers, travelled, took amazing workshops with James Arthur Ray, got caught up in a rapturous 5-minute long distance consumption with a man, and the moment I knew it was over, this beautiful man from Steamboat called me after not hearing from him for 6 months.

There are many memories that make me catch my breath, but the main one is the view I had from underneath his firm body and watching the muscles in his arms as he came toward me. Every time that memory flashes in my mind, I forget to breathe.

In a very short time we packed a lot of opportunities to be together, new experiences, new ways of pleasure, and wonderful ways of just being with one another. The images are so vivid that it makes my arms ache to slide them around his back and bury my head against his chest. Ah, that chest, that wonderful, luscious chest. Sometimes the ache surfaces when I least expect it, like when I'm serving champagne to a wedding party or calling an insurance company for a patient's benefits. It feels like a knot twisted in my heart and tears spring into my eyes. I don't have to even be thinking about him. I don't need to be feeling anything but tremendous joy when all of a sudden it lights up in my heart, and I hurt. And just for a moment, or longer, it seems I'd give anything to lie in his arms once again.