Saturday, August 21, 2010
In the morning, Sid wakes up to his alarm like normal, and also like normal he tries to get it after the second beep to try and not wake me up. And like usual, it doesn't work but I hold still, letting him think it does. He goes through with his normal routine, getting showered and taking his bags downstairs, and then coming upstairs once again to say goodbye to me.
Sid's a man of routine, and I love that about him. I always know what to expect, and he never lets me down. But what happens when expectations are raised and then aren't met? Not because of a failure of effort, but simply because the other half doesn't know the bar has been raised? I know Sid loves me, and I love all the little gestures he does for me, but every now and then I hope he thinks out of the box, and does something special. But it never happens.
He sits down gently on the bed next to me and takes my left hand in his, toying with my wedding ring that I only take off when I shower. After a few seconds, he brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my ring ever so slightly before gently lowering my hand back where it was before. He then pushes my hair back from my face before placing the sweetest, most delicate kiss on my forehead.
It's after all of this that he finally attempts to "wake" me up. He nudges my arm slightly, and I do my best acting job of trying to wake up for real. When my eyes flutter open, I see him smirking down at me, and it's in that moment that I know things are rough between us now, and we will have to work, work really hard to try to get back to what we use to be, but I'm okay with that and even more I want it.
"Good morning," he greets softly, once again taking my left hand and kissing it before laying it back down and stroking the backside of it while I continue to wake up.
"Good morning," I reply before bringing him down for a kiss, a kiss more passionate that would normally happen on the morning of a game day. But what surprises me the most is the fact that he doesn't hold back either. In fact, he deepens the kiss, pushing me down into the covers.
Before it's all said and done, he's lying on top of me, and I can feel exactly why he's a little reluctant to leave now. But knowing he has to, he finally breaks his lips apart from mine and gives me a sly grin.
"When I get back," he laughs before trailing his hand down from my breast to the string of my panties and playfully snapping it, "you better be waiting right here."
"And if I'm not?" I counter back.
"I caveman. I hunt you down," he plays while stomping on all fours on the bed up towards me again, which has me in more than fits and giggles, until he finally has me down on all fours and I'm at his surrender. As if I wasn't before..
"Aww honey," I coo while sliding my hand down his face across his baby-smooth skin. "Don't compare yourself to Ovechkin," I add while pulling his face back down to mine. "Because you are way better looking."
He laughs and hops down off the bed, leaving me with the perfect opportunity to slap his bubbly butt, which I take. He laughs again before leaning down to kiss me one last time.
"See you when I get back. Right here," he finishes before pointing to the bed.
"Okay caveman," I giggle.
And with that, he's off. And I know for now that we are okay.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Throughout the whole story, italics represent flashbacks.
"And you fly out to Chicago tomorrow morning?" I ask while finishing rubbing in the lotion on my legs before removing my glasses and sitting them on the bedside table. I then remove the book from my lap, fold the page I'm on under and sit it next to my glasses before turning my lamp off and snuggling down in the bed and waiting for him to turn his lamp off too, but that of course isn't going to happen until he's done watching film.
"Yeah. I'll be back Tuesday," he replies while never taking his eyes off the TV screen. To any other girl, this might offend them. And a year or two ago, it probably would have offended me too. But this is what we've grown accustomed to, so it's not as if it's an odd happening. "The guys want to go out when we get back, is that fine with you?"
And this is what makes me cringe.
First off, if you are thinking I'm insane, you are probably right. I have Sidney Crosby, Prince of Pucks, in my bed, and I'm afraid to go out in public with him. But the tension in my shoulders does not go unprovoked.
I see him catch his breath, hold completely still to see if the tension fades, and when it doesn't he sighs. "Rae, it's just for lunch."
"With a bitchy waitress, and a jealous cafe owner."
"Stop it," he interjects in a stern voice. "I don't know why you are so dramatic about everything. You use to be able to handle my life, and I just don't know anymore," he finishes before clicking the remote and making the TV turn off. And that's when I panic, because there was four minutes left in the third, and we never end film early. "You use to not be so clingy, so helpless."
"You use to be a tad more sensitive too," I mumble to myself before rolling over on my side.
"What was that?"
"Nothing Sid, let's go to bed." And then I wait for it. Wait for him to roll over and snuggle with me like he use to. Wait for him to hold me close, inhibiting me from getting out of his strong grasp even if I wanted to. But it never happens.
Instead, he sighs in frustration before sweeping my hair off of my neck and lightly kissing me on the shoulder and then rolling over himself, so that we are butt to butt and turning off his lamp before snuggling in for the night too.
And this is when the tears silently begin to fall from my eyes as sleep suddenly evades me.