We spent the whole night together. We drove together, drank together, kissed, caressed, giggled together. We made love all night. He slept in my arms, in my tiny narrow bed, in my tiny narrow room in our basement. I was tired of working long hours and not getting enough sleep for so many nights but when he fell sleep, I didn't want to fall too. I wanted to stay awake and look at him. I wanted to listen to his breath sounds. I wanted to listen to him snoring. I love it when he snores. I love everything about him. To me, he is perfect. Even though he doesn't love me the way I love him, I still love him the way I want to.
When he left in the morning, same story as always happened; I didn't want to change my clothes. I didn't want to take a shower or wash my hands. When he leaves, I'm only a lonely soul, I'm only a piece of material smelling like the man I love. I went back to bed and let the smell of his body, his cigarette, his cologne fill my head. I pictured him in my arms again -like he never left, and held him tight until I fell sleep.
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