The Light in the Distance

He is on the other side of this wall, but he cannot see me.


But I can hear him, as he speaks to himself at times. The depth of baritone sends a familiar throbbing feeling between my thighs. I can wake up to that syrupy depth every day for the rest of my life. Like a strong shot of espresso, mellow but wildly stimulating. It is an electric jolt that runs right under your skin, making your baby hairs stand upright at attention.


I guess this is all a romantic, roundabout way of saying that I miss him. Long distance can be a real bitch.


He has been speaking to himself… about groceries, about laundry, about how his boss has been a real pain in the ass as of late. And the ramble goes on, but it doesn’t get better as he turns the conversation to talk about me. I wonder where she is right now, if she’s thinking of me like I’m thinking of her... I don’t know how to tell her I miss her so goddamn much! God, this woman will drive me mad – mad in love.


And I listen quietly, a little giddy. I’m still glad I didn’t give away my cover, this feeling is excruciating. There are butterflies fluttering rapidly all around my insides, and my heart feels like it’s barely holding itself together at its seams. I am wrapped in fairy lights, wearing only the lacy pink lingerie that he bought for our last anniversary. I don’t know when to flip the switch, to surprise him with both the festive lights and with myself.


Love is a funny thing.


I seem to imagine the strong whiff of his musk – a sandalwood, an earthy pine, gently folded into a cardamom spice. If his smell were to be a perfume, I would spray it onto my pillowcase every night, to invoke that feeling that he is surrounding me. At least I can pretend that he is sending me off sweetly into dreamland.


His footsteps grow louder as he approaches the bedroom. My heart beats at a concerning triple time – is this what tachycardia feels like? The thudding rings louder and louder in my ears, as the anticipation is tense enough to cut through with a hot blade. My fingers reach for the light switch, as his shadow just starts to approach his bedroom door frame.


“Happy anniversary… and happy new year, my love.”

My voice quivers, as I lay my eyes on him. God! He makes me melt.



“Babe, you know how I feel about knots…”


Nikita RoseComment