The right direction

Leaving 1209 on August 12, 2007

Bedroom, hallway, spare room, bathroom, office, down the stairs. Kitchen, dining room (no piano), living room, porch, resting on the stoop. Maple to Locust to Linden to Union Boulevard to 378 to 22W, Airport Road, Fullerton, 7th, 15th, Cedarcrest Boulevard, 309, PA Turnpike, Trexlertown, Kutztown, Hamburg, Reading, Strausstown, New Smithville, Midway, Grimes, Ft. Indiantown Gap, 81S past Hershey to Harrisburg, 15S to Dillsburg, Emmitsville, Gettysburg, Thurmont, 270S to Frederick, Cockeysville, Urbana, Germantown, Gaithersburg, Rockville, 495 to Clara Barton Parkway, along the river past Chain Bridge, left on Arizona, right on Loughboro to Nebraska, Ward Circle, Massachusetts to 4100, through the drive, into the garage, through the door, left down the corridor, down the stairs to the lower terrace to #LT-04, across the threshold, into Wray's waiting arms.

The 203-mile roadtrips are over. It's time for our new life to begin.

A Position Paper

I love all the natural ways we position ourselves when we're together.
I love when we're on the couch, your back against my chest, and I feel your hair against my face. Sometimes I kiss the nape of your neck.
I love when we first go to bed and you snuggle down, your face below my chin, my arms around your neck. I also love when you turn around and I snuggle from behind, my hand cupping your breast.
I love when we sip coffee on opposite ends of the couch and our bare feet touch.
I love when you swim to me in the night, and I wake just enough to know before drifting off again.
I love moving through the apartment with you, our bodies brushing against each other. I love when we stop for a quick kiss in the corridor.
I love sharing the bathroom with you, the dance we do as we both groom ourselves. I love when we shower each other, and I love washing your back.
I love entangling, my knee and calf between yours. I love looking deep into your eyes with our noses touching.
The only thing I love about you leaving is when you lean back against your car door and I lean in for a last kiss.
I love this sketch of us in Duck, one year ago. Our bodies are already leaning in and filling the space with the greatest of ease.

I have very strong views about you and
I often feel the need to take a position.

August 1, 2007

Dearest Wray

Today is the first day of the last month that we will be living 200 miles apart.

Yesterday was the day that I put the ring that symbolizes our commitment to each other on my finger.

Three days from now is the anniversary of our first kiss.

So much to be grateful for.

So much to look forward to.

So much sparkle and wonder.

I will love you completely and forever.

Yours,

Susie