As you may have guessed, as with all my online romances, things with the Literary crashed and burned as they did with the Guitarman. I have often reserved the fact that I should give up on “love” all together, but with the way and speed of things that happen in my life in the digital world, I am not without male company again. This one is deep though. I know I know, they were all “deep” on some level. But this one, this one made me cry. Balling out tears as a matter of fact.
I don’t look at myself as beautiful. That’s why I hide online instead of going out there in the “real world.” But no one ever questioned that until now. This guy, this Mr. M,. made me see that hiding behind the screen robs people of the true beauty that is “Lynn” I never thought about it that way. I believe my life is a sham, a complete fallacy, one in which I hide myself behind the screen so I can be this voluptuous vixen, when in fact, in reality I truly am a voluptuous vixen. I just think no one sees it. Well Mr. M challenged that notion and I completely broke down. So now here I am with one thought in mind:
New York, 7pm, October 10th. A small bar in the East Village. Private, secluded, minimal chatter but maximum flirtation. I touch his beard. It tickles just a bit. Passing glances from across the table. Minimal eye contact. We laugh as he tells me the story of how he punched out Tony the Tiger. Apparently not all things are “Gggggggreeeattt! He touches my cheek ever so gently, and I say get your coat we are leaving.
I hail the nearest cab, and throughout the ride, his hand brushes my thigh. I giggle just a little as I rest my head on his shoulders. His hand and arm rest peacefully on my thigh as it has found a new home; one that feels that it belonged there forever. We get out at Pier 17, I grab his hand and run into the night as we catch the last boat ride to the Statue of Liberty. A moonlit Manhattan cruise ride. It couldn’t be the more romantic setting. His hand reaches up and caresses the back of my neck. Ahh, that feels like home to. Then he circles the small of my back with his fingers as I moan ever so gently. I look at him. Its magic. He takes my face with both of his hands and kisses me gently, forcefully, tenderly, roughly, romantically. It is a kiss to rival the stars. The heavens shake as this monumental kiss is felt all around the world. Fireworks aren’t the words to describe it.
This man Mr. M. What a creature he is. A love for me from the inside out not the outside in. The boat makes its way to the Statue of Liberty as we disappear into the night.
Ahh what a dream, what a dream.