notjustaboutsex

I will stuff myself with protein bars and carob shavings until I can swallow the truth.

Tequila may help it go down but nothing will dull the edge

Perhaps a walk in the forest, but who am I kidding… Forest Hills is not the woods.

Embarrassed, realizing the pain isn’t worthy of real Pen writers, I will nonetheless cry in the dark when the last episode reaches my heart.

I have been tricked, seduced and won over by his masters; how did they know me so well?

A latecomer to the party, I made up for lost time, ignoring all others, reserving my time for HIM.

It’s almost over now and I predict my grief.

But his seat in my house will remain empty, until, like Elijah, or another wishful guest, he returns, claiming the night as his own.