The trip had been long. Delay after delay had me waiting hours in the airport and then hours on the plane at the gate, then the run way, then we circled then we waited after we landed. why does airplane air smell like used socks? I pushed my way off the plane desperate for fresh air. Finally I was almost home, but the line at the taxi stand was at least 15 people deep and no taxis were swinging thru the airport at this time of night.
Dejected and just wanting to get home and shower and into bed, I paid the exhorbant fare of the gypsy cab. I was a good 45 minutes from the airport and thanks to another fight with my boyfriend, I was having to cab it home by myself.
Luckily, the taxi driver had a decent car. It was clean. The seats weren’t leather, but a velour that smelled like lavender and was a thousand percent better then the used socks of the plane. His car was clean and after waiting to make sure he was a safe driver and answering his questions with short curt answers so he would understand small talk was not an option, I leaned back and mentally reviewed the 10 meetings I had had earlier that day. I always loved riding in the back seats of big cars and watching the world go by. Especially at night. the darkness. i loved how blue black it was. and if i was on a highway without lights, that was my idea of a vacation! I always looked at the few cars on the road and wondered about their lives? Were they rushing home to loving husbands or screaming children? It always allowed me time to think without disctractions. The meetings went pretty well I thought. I was able to read each person fairly well and adjust myself accordingly. I anxiously awaited the good news.
it was mostly highway to my house and smoothness of the ride relaxed me. i felt my body deflating. The first few bars are what got me. the melody I knew instantly because it was our song. we played that song literally for hours on end. It stayed on repeat in our cd player. it spoke of our relationship in so many ways. anytime. anyplace. we went anywhere and anyplace. we were both daredevils. we went all over our hometown exploring places we had never been. going to the projects at dawn, and hiking through the park in the pitch black of night.
we touched anytime and anyplace. we craved each other. we would lay listening to janet sing about her lover. it set off something in us. we craved each other. our kisses were magnetic. we crushed our bodies into each as our breath exchanged life forces. we held each other ferociously as our tongues spelled our our emotions. it was stronger then love. it was necessary. without his breath I would die. as the song played on, “you feel so good inside my love” i listened remembering. our youth and our passion made our fumbling in the dark that much more intense. we didn’t have that confidence and understanding gained from experience but we knew what felt good. his tongue on my knee, my whispering in his ear.
the song played on and the world was a movie outside the car window. I replayed the video in my head. ooooh the strawberries, I laughed as I remembered his weakness. His favorite thing in the world was to lay his head in my lap as I fed him strawberries. It was the most perfect feeling of security, of peace, of contentment I’ve ever felt. As the song went to its bridge I became meloncholy. I was always searching for that feeling. that contentment. that need. that passion. the kisses, the touch, the chemistry.
as the song ended the taxi stopped short. pulling my out of my reminicsing reminding me that I had realtime problems awaiting me. I crawled home and climbed into bed after putting the cd on repeat. “we haven’t listened to this in a long time” he looked over at me and smiled