"you got a haircut."
I'm not sure if it's a question or a statement. I answer appropriately for both, "a while back."
Well. Monday. But that's "while back" enough. How could she miss it? The last time I had my hair cut was in January. I remember it well. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, and it was the last time anybody touched me (until this haircut of course). Yes, and during this haircut there was an accidental rubbing. I'm all set for the next 3 months!
I wonder how long I can go without touch? I mean I'm a very touch oriented person. I've always thought of touch as kinda intimate. But I've also always thought it was necessary. It's like proof that the people around you do exist. Doubting Rob, that's me. Forgive me, I'm feeling a little alone in the world.
When was the last time my wife touched me? Early January just after New Years. Well technically that’s wrong. She has kissed me since. She continued kissing me up until late February. But that was not the standard husband/wife kiss. It wasn't even the public display peck on the lips. No, this was the kiss your parents made you give your fuzzy mouthed, hairy lipped aunt Sadie when she came to visit. Now I know how aunt Sadie felt. Sorry Sadie.
What's more, these kisses (the ones with my wife, go ahead and drop Sadie for now) allowed for no physical contact. My wife would lean in, hands either clenched into her side, or locked behind her back. Then the most delicate touch, her lips brush mine and are gone. It may not have even been lip to lip contact, maybe it was the push of air and wishful thinking touching my puckered mouth. I don't know, I think she'd have worn a radiation suit if the neighbors wouldn't stare. She cares a lot about image. I am sure she carried Listerine swabs for such kissing emergencies.
Oh, I'm not the angelic waif here either. I couldn't even look her in the eye after she mentioned she was considering a divorce. I was too afraid to let her see the hatred torching all fond memories and glazing everything personal. Maybe that's why she barely kissed me, the searing heat would have engulfed her in flame. Oh Joy! A Bar-B-Q….
A man can dream, can't he?
She doesn't kiss me anymore. The average evening goes like this.
***
Setting: A small office. It's night. A man and a woman sit at separate desks. The man continues to work on his computer, while the woman finishes a game of solitaire. She turns off her computer and walks to the door. Without looking back, the woman speaks.
Woman (monotone): I'm going to bed
Man: Good night. Sleep well. (The man looks up to see the woman exit.)
Woman: I will.
Woman exits. Man continues to work. He looks after the receding shape of his wife as she moves down the hall. Sighing, he turns back to his work.
***
Yup. Watch for us on the next Hallmark special. My wife will be the woman standing at the door yelling at the little kid, "Return the stupid shoes, it's too late. Your mother's dead."
Me? I'll be lying on the lawn making snow angels, staring at the stars, waiting to feel something. anything. Just a touch.
I'd like to end these entries with one good thing. I mean, no matter what, she isn't a monster. I married her for a reason. I didn't sign on for the seven year plan; I planned on forever. But as Prince sang "That's a mighty long time." But there were reasons I loved her, and still do, if I'm honest with myself.
We first met online, in 97. She lived on the west coast, and I was going to school just off the coast of Lake Michigan. I was playing music trivia at some AOL site, back when AOL had a deal with NTN. It made me thing I was in a bar drinking $5 beers rather than sitting alone in a cold dorm room drinking room-chilled Mountain Dew. Occasionally I'd hear my neighbors having sex, adding to the bar theme. Well sort of. Anyway, I'd be playing trivia, and I always kicked ass. I like music, and I was good at trivia.
Then one night a woman logged in and consistently finished just ahead of me. Did I mention I'm competitive too? So I'm playing, and she's beating me on the barely music related questions, like which model was dating what singer? Who cares? She did, and she beat me because of it. It didn't matter that I knew who sang what song, what CD it appeared on, and which studio it was recorded in. Nope. So I IMed her and told her she wasn't allowed to beat me. She returned my IM telling me what I could do with my inflated ego, and we fell in love shortly after. I visited her that spring for break. She was everything in person that she was online. She was smart, funny, and very secure in herself. We continued online and on phone for another year until I graduated, hooking up for every school holiday possible. We ran up $500 phone bills back in the days of 1010321. We talked a lot. She flew out for my graduation, and we drove back to her place. That's one of my best memories of her. Meeting her and getting to know her. That woman was happy and supportive. I did everything I could for her, and it was love. Not fairy tale love, but something more concrete, with the smudges and imperfections. That made it more real more substantial. At least that's what I believed.
Ok, I'm gonna go look for some touch. Does it count if I rub one of the cats? I mean in a purely plutonic way. Nevermind, I'll just let them sleep.
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