Left to my own post-coital devices, I contact Tony (1)

Lewis left that morning before 7am. Exhausted, with sore insides and aching limbs, I crawled back into bed and fell asleep for a few hours. I had the day off of work.

I woke up, feeling somewhat melancholy. I made myself a coffee and went back into my bed, pulling my crisp white sheets up around my shoulders. All those niggling feelings about Lewis came to a head when he point blank ignored my question about seeing him again.

I pondered life and love. I thought about chemistry and thought about how effortless it is with some people.

Naturally, this train of thought took me to Tony. It had been almost a month since we’d last spoken. I missed him like crazy; rarely a day had gone by that I didn’t think about him.

In the quiet of my room, in my bed, listening to the birds singing outside my window, I realized time had done nothing to dull how I feel about him. I was in love with him, clearly. Despite all my better judgment. But this love had not made me blind. I know full well the likelihood of any meaningful change was Β minimal.

I had seen him online on POF several times and figured he’d been dating. Obviously, I hoped all his dates were mediocre. I wondered how things were going with him and his ex-wife and whether he’d done any more interesting work.

I looked at my phone. I wanted to talk to him. I debated for a long while the pros and cons of calling him. I questioned myself why, really deep down why, I wanted to talk to him. I remembered my friend who said I should be myself and act like I would with a girlfriend.

Clearly, in that case I would call. I just wanted to hear his voice and see how he was doing.

Finally, I dialed the phone…and wondered whether he would even take my call.

[part two]

28 thoughts on “Left to my own post-coital devices, I contact Tony (1)

  1. Do you think the melancholy could be linked to sub drop of some sort? You know, you needed to be taken care of and he just left?

What do you think?