Pooner Diaries: Special

[Birdboy 10482]

The rain fell out of the night sky with a light tapping on the car's roof as I sat waiting. I looked at my watch. She was 20 minutes late. The car's windows were already fogging over, and I pulled the collar of my coat closer to ward off the fall chill.

 

She never used to be late. Quite the contrary, in fact. She once was thrilled to see me. You could just tell. Once, she even texted me that I should come over early, whenever I was ready. And she pounced on me as soon as I came in the door. Knocking me off balance as we collapsed onto her hallway floor, her tongue probing my mouth, her fingers already nimbly plucking at my shirt buttons. By the time we finally made it to her bed, she was wow. Just wow.

 

But that was a long time ago. I don't know when it changed, or why, but it had with time. The last time we met up, she was just going through the motions. I could see that her mind was already somewhere far away, that she was already thinking about something just over the horizon. And the last time I tried to see her, she didn't show up at all. Oh, she apologized profusely. But she told me that in a text and wouldn't take my call. I don't think she trusted her voice not to betray her real feelings. That's okay. I heard her actions speak louder and much more plainly than her words anyway.

 

It was a late fall evening. The darkness was enshrouding me earlier and earlier every day. It was dark now, and she was leaving me too much time alone to think. I thought of the good old days, when it seemed like we could never get enough of each other. She made me feel like she was there for me and me alone. Yeah, I know that wasn't true. At least not in this silly business we're in. But I believed it then, in the deepest recesses of my heart.

 

So many men, and so many of the ladies in this business think that this is all about simply fucking. You know, healthy exercise, something to put a spring in your step and a glow in your cheeks. Just sex. Nothing more.

 

Don't get me wrong. I've rather grown partial to fucking. But for me, there's so much more. It's not just about fucking. I want to feel like I'm special. I need to feel wanted. I want to feel like I'm part of the human race, that I'm not an alien observer dropped onto this planet, trying to pass as normal. She used to do that for me, once. I felt alive in her arms. Whole.

 

I looked at my watch. She's 45 minutes late now. I don't think she's going to show up. In an instant, my phone was in my hand, ready for me to type out a quick text. I looked down for a moment before tucking the phone back into my pocket. I don't think there's any point now. I don't think that she's ever going to make me feel special, ever again.

 

I started my car, and the windows started to defog as the fans blew. I looked up at her apartment building. Years ago, a friend gave me some very good advice. It was to never feel sorry for what had passed, but feel joy for what you had the good fortune to have appreciated. And tomorrow, I'll move on, scan those ads. Read those reviews. Call a stranger. But tonight, I need to go home and get out of my nice clothes. I put my car in gear and drove away.

[Labrador 248]

Great read...I have been there...best to move on!

[Cato 160314]

Another great post, Birdboy. Thank you.

[IamaGeek 3664]

A sort of pooner noir - nicely done.

[OldBuck 1074]

As always...... And thanks.

[cherise 101]

still falling

[Birdboy 10482]

You're going to need some strong arms to catch you from that height.

[futileresistenz 28253]

Hats off! Excellent work. Especially these two paragraphs are spot on, and express my feelings on the subject and why I am a patron of courtesans.

FR

 

 

So many men, and so many of the ladies in this business think that this is all about simply fucking. You know, healthy exercise, something to put a spring in your step and a glow in your cheeks. Just sex. Nothing more.

 

Don't get me wrong. I've rather grown partial to fucking. But for me, there's so much more. It's not just about fucking. I want to feel like I'm special. I need to feel wanted. I want to feel like I'm part of the human race, that I'm not an alien observer dropped onto this planet, trying to pass as normal. She used to do that for me, once. I felt alive in her arms. Whole.

[Athos 108589]

I've been there ... it took three missed appointments before I finally realized it was time to move on. Still full of regrets about that, years later.

 

Porthos

[Birdboy 10482]

Ah, this tale is rather a late bloomer. I'd posted it a few weeks back but it seems to have newfound popularity! Thanks, everyone, for all the kind words.