At this
time, his plane is probably taking off for Lima. Not having the heart to look at the specifics
of his itinerary, all I can feel is my heart stretching too far, too fast. I worry if I’m elastic enough. I imagine snapping being fatal. I imagine possibilities that he’d never
return, leaving me torn. My imagination
is being very unkind to me in this moment.
Left
alone in a hotel suite, in this spacious king-sized bed, my only company are
these tingling sensations. Without
thinking, my fingertips are at my shoulder, softly tracing the indention of his
teeth marks in my skin. Once again, I
find comfort in the souvenir of soreness.
I spent the morning revisiting my neck, my chest, my feet… My ass, my thighs, my belly… Although he’s gone, I can still feel the
subtle throbbing from where he’s bitten me.
The further he travels away from me, the more I hunger for him. I’m glad to have such a living example of his
hunger for me.
I need all the validation I can
get.
