A Day In My Life

To the lovies that read the Daily Post:

He came over early morning. It was close to the end. I had just barely woken up and was clad in only a fleece pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top. The cool summer breeze coming through all of the open windows put my hair on end and covered my skin with goose bumps. My nipples had hardened in the chill; the shape of the shirt accentuated this small detail. Sleep gunk still lingered in my eyes; which, in my mind, drastically reduced the sensuality of the situation. He was wide awake and dressed for day in loose cargo pants suspended by a canvas belt and was wearing a shirt that was tight enough to see that he had been lifting weights. His eyes light up when he saw me.

“Do you want some coffee?” I mumbled still half asleep.

He swept me up in his arms and I inhaled deeply the mixture of cologne, deodorant, and body wash that all melded together and was uniquely him.

“That would be fine sleepyhead,” he said with a giggle.

His face lit up with love and benevolence when he smiled. He always had this faraway look in his eyes; but when he smiled, you could see how much it meant to him. I took brief solace that neither my stepmother nor my siblings were there to rob this moment from us. Everyone in my family was overly fond of him. Him and those gorgeous inky black curls and soft farmers tan that made my heart melt. I hear the slow progression of little feet heading down the hallway leading to the stairs. I release from our embrace and quickly make his coffee the way he likes. Four teaspoons of sugar and healthy splash of milk.

“Good morning Sonya… Justin! You’re here! You’re here to play with us!” My little brother, Evan, nearly shouts in excitement.

“Justin is here! Justin is here!” My sister, Chaeli shouts with the same intensity as her brother.

“Calm down,” I said with authority. “Mommy went out to the store and I am going to look after you while she’s out. Come sit down so we can eat breakfast.”

Everyone listens miraculously and all three of them are seated contently. They have small talk while I serve up glasses of milk to the kids and pop several frozen waffles into the toaster before I make myself a mug of adrenaline in preparation for a day of fun ahead. I stride over and encompass my arms around his shoulders, burying my face into his shoulder to line the side of his neck with kisses.

The sound of gravel crackling under tires alerts me to the need to make a mug of coffee for my stepmother as well. The kids ate their waffles while Justin and I unloaded the groceries from her car. You could see that she was happy for all of Justin’s help and for him being such a good person. As soon as the kids are done eating Justin and I are off playing hide and seek, but rarely did we share a hiding spot. Our size difference made it easier for me to hide, but when we did share the musty confines of an enclosed space our lips met and tingled with desire and excitement. The moment would pass as the patter of feet appeared in front of our spot and with my squeal of disappointment we would relinquish our hiding spot.

I changed from my pajamas right before lunch. The morning had passed by in a flurry of memories made. As I stood brazenly naked, a brief thought of how wonderful it would be to have him waltz in and to feel those rough calloused hands pull me close. Shivering, I rushed the thought out of my head and quickly dressed in my bathing suit under a pair of shorts and a t shirt. I had just finished when I heard my stepmother bellow up the stairs calling me down for lunch.

Ramen noodles. The simplicity of Ramen noodles and grilled cheese had a certain beauty to it. Evan, Chaeli, Justin, and I were all curled up on the couch and his arms were wrapped behind my siblings and me. It was comforting to know he was there for us, all of us. He probably didn’t even know how much he and his family meant to us. It was our first time ever being free to love the life we were building. Togetherness, he was as much a part of our family as I was to his family. Tom and Jerry played on the background of my consciousness accompanied with the cackle of my siblings’ laughter.

As soon as lunch was over, the kids were sprinting outside shouting about a pool. Their boundless energy never ceased to amaze me. Soon we had the kiddie pool inflated and the garden hose was gushing with water from the arctic. Justin pulled his shirt off without feeling my eyes watching his every movement. Slight ridges ran down his stomach and his arms bulged tantalizingly. A thin trail of black glossy curls lead from his belly button to below his shorts. A constellation of freckles coated his back, but were barely noticeable on that light creamy tone of sun kissed olive. His eyes finally met mine and took my breath away with their hues of blue and green. A smile played upon his lips and they curled up despite his attempt to hide it. The water sloshed lazily into the inflated kiddie pool and the excitement was practically radiating off of the kids. I proceeded to pick op Evan and gently plop him into the freezing cold. Shrieking like a tortured soul, he practically combusted out of the water. The afternoon passed with us all climbing into the pool, minus my stepmother who sat in the shade and read, and playing shark.

Bedtime had come faster than anyone had wanted it to come; I proceeded to curl up in his arms as we settled down to a movie before he had to go home. There was little room in my mind for much else besides the love I had for him. Not the fact that it would all end soon, too soon. To truly be happy, one has to suffer. Part of the reason that this was one of the best days of my life was because we had all just immerged from the dark and despair that had been life for the past sixteen years.

The Snow Is Sand

All that is on my mind currently:

Christmas, a time for friends, family, and the spirit of giving. I guess two out of three isn’t all that bad. I have got some baked love to hand out to all the people that have made this year worth living and I am very excited to present it to them, but something is missing. I was raised with my stepmother, my father, and my two younger siblings; I was never really fond of my Dad for reasons better left unsaid, but everyone else is mandatory to my basic functioning. I had to move away three years ago after the divorce, due to her lacking custody and me not wanting to burden her further as a single mother. I have been able to travel to spend at least a chunk of the holiday with them in past years, however this year I have been working and taking on extra shifts in order to pay for some of my college loans that will be accumulating here shortly. I am having issues facing the fact that this Christmas is going to be hard on me. It hurts to see everyone missing you when you have to leave abruptly to go to work, cutting everyone’s time short. It hurts to see how much my siblings have grown when I sit back and remember like it was yesterday when I was reading bedtime stories to them.

I would move in, but I can’t. Well technicality I could, but then my mother has almost sworn to disown me. I don’t know why that thought bugs me. I have never been close to her or her husband or anyone on that part of my family to any meaningful extent. Why can’t I just leave? At this point, my mother barely provides for me and I could provide a portion of the income for my stepmother if she needed it. I would have love, support, and actually have interest in what was going on with my life. I was raised with that and now that it is gone these past three years have left me hollow. It pains me to just visit my stepmother, following it I have weeks of homesickness and emotional torment; but the longer I go, the less it hurts. It probably seems immature, but I just don’t know. Maybe I’m just not strong enough. I just don’t know.

I can go weeks without talking to my mother, even though we live together. The current record is two weeks and the only words she said to me were asking about how was work. Who can go two weeks without talking and then simply ask about the most impersonal thing besides the weather?  Maybe this is how other families function. I feel like I have nowhere to turn for answers about this. I know that I should just be thankful that I have a roof over my head and that I am no longer getting abused, but that four month span after the divorce where it had just been my me, stepmom, and two siblings completely altered my perspective. I know I will never have that back fully and the only way I can get it back for good is to model my own family on what she has taught me. It all seems to brief; all of life is a breath. Here for a second and then dying the next. I need to cherish what I have left on this spinning blue marble, for it will all be gone soon enough.