I am completely empty inside when we are apart. When I see you again, I am filled with sweetness and warmth. You give me purpose. Others give you their attention, but I can see that I am the one that brings you joy. I know that I give you energy, motivation. I see it when we’re together. I long to feel your lips again, to enjoy the gentle caress of your hands.
I know that you love your husband–it is evident in the way you smile at him–but he cannot give you everything you need. I am happy to fill the void. He has his own vessel–more than one, in fact–whom he uses for his own pleasure. You know this, and yet it does not bother you. He treats them flippantly, as if one is no more special than the next. This is not the case with us.
I know our relationship is casual, temporary–we spend but a few moments together–but the companionship I feel with you lasts much longer than our brief encounters might suggest. We do not see each other in public at some cafe or other, and I am glad; I want you all to myself. Warm water runs over me at the end of the day, washing away the color of your lipstick that reveals to the world the evidence of our all-too-breviloquent testimony of passion. Even still, I can feel your parted lips brushing me, nestling against me. I enjoy recalling the light touch of your fingertips as they playfully tap against my back.
There is bitterness, too, inside of me. This affair cannot last, and I curse the day when I will finally be broken apart, discarded like others I have seen. Theirs is not as devastating a loss as mine would be, I would venture. We have something that they never could, and so I must filter the astringency inside. For the time being, I will enjoy these moments until we must depart.
After Laura takes the last sip of her coffee, she gently sets the mug in the sink before heading out for work.
Adieu, for now, my love.
Copyright © 2020 Brandon Ellrich
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