Listening

Currently sipping hot tea and changing my hair color. I was going through all of my classical music, which lead to me looking for my favorite songs with piano in them, which lead to Billy Joel’s Piano Man. I knew a piano man once. He studied at Berklee and had the most beautiful baby grand that took up his entire living room. He was very kind, and very nice. I still have a photo of him somewhere, probably pressed between old birthday cards and even older memories. I had no heart invested in, more so an admiration. I don’t even think we even kissed. Funny, thinking back, I think he was 25 and I was 19. I will never see him again.  Not that things ended badly, then again, maybe they did. He is in Washington D. C., or at least he was 5 years back, but could not give his location seeing as though he had been promoted to internal intelligence or something or other. I hope he is well.

Which brings me to the next thought of all the people that come and go in a person’s life. The idea of never seeing some faces again almost causes a little heartbreak. Yet, one of the most wonderful feelings in the world is the moment when you see one of those faces you never knew if you’d see again or not.

Counting the days. 

Trying to Walk Through Thoughts: Touch

It hit me last night, how much I desire to touch. I am not much of a cuddler, I can be, but nothing like my mother, who still attempts to sneak into my bedroom to cuddle in the morning on the very few days that she visits. 

The more I think about it, the stranger it seems. Now, I don’t just go around touching random people, and I really don’t even like being touched by others, especially random people. I am not the type to sit close to a friend when watching movies, or hold someone’s hand when they are breaking down in front of me, rarely is there even a pat on the back for a job well done. 

Then again, maybe it’s not the feel of touching just anyone’s skin, more so touching that person I am attracted to and have heart in. Perhaps it’s the moment where nothing seems to exist and it is just me and him. Close and secluded, and ever so grateful to be in that time together. Playing with his hair, tracing his face, touching his lips. The little things, nothing sexual, just, simple. 

I am not good with words spoken or talking about how I feel. In the moments where I can run my fingers down the side of his neck and just breathe him in, something just feels right, calm, and connected. 

I wonder, do others feel the same way? I cannot wait to touch him again. Days, please go by faster.