No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Sunday, 11 July 2010

Zaphod's jus' zis guy...

One day, a guy will take me to the airport.  He'll take the day off work and drive me there even when my flight's at 3 in the morning.  He'll hold me and kiss me and not want to let me go.  He'll give me something to remember him by, something personal; maybe he made it, maybe its something that has a particular memory associated with it, but its something that everytime i see, read, hear, look at, smell, hold, I'll think of him.
And when I come back, he'll be waiting at arrivals.  I won't have had to tell him anything; he'll have had the date, time, and flight details down in his diary for ages.  And he doesn't even need it in his diary cause its etched into his memory anyway.  He'll have done all the washing and reordered the DVDs the day before, only because he couldn't come get me then.  He'll be one of the first people waiting at the arrivals hall because he was than eager to see me again.  He'll give me flowers, or a stuffed animal with my name on the foot, or chocolate milk, and he'll give me a big hug, and a kiss, in front of everyone else there, not caring what they think, or if its so sickeningly trite and gay that they want to vomit, or hit us or something.  And then he'll take my bag, and he'll take my hand, and lead me back to his car, and drive me home.
And if we're both up for it, maybe he pulls over half way home and fucks the hell out of me to say welcome home XD.  And at home, my friends will be there waiting for me, with a cooked meal, and alcohol, and they'll have the sense to either eat, say their helloes and then leave, or to stay talking and drinking about nothing until the next sunrise according to how drained I feel after travelling.  And then I'll get into bed with this guy, and he'll curl himself around me, and tell me he loves me, that he doesn't care what happened whilst I was away, who I saw, who I fucked, who he fucked, he just cares that I'm home and with him.  And then I'll finally fall asleep.
And I know there's practical issues with this; Chris and I don't live together, he needs to learn to drive, etc.  But like I say, one day...
Yeah... I'm not as out and out bad boy as I seem at the end of the day.
Post factum scribendumque:
Chris had chocolate milk.  Hehe.  And I hadn't even had a chance to post this at the time.  There's hope yet...  Unfortunately my stomach feels like hell again; milk is thus good as it gives me something to line my digestive system with, but at the same time its a really heavy substance to hit the stomach, especially in warm weather.

No comments:

Post a Comment