Tags

, , ,

I woke to the weight of an object across my body, in the fog of my mind I thought it was Pandora and Athena as they found sleeping on me to be the best part of their rest. I opened my eyes slowly and looked at the wall as my mind remembered the evenings events. I removed his hand from my bare breast and slid out of bed and headed to the water cooler and bathroom.

The ice cold water felt good on my parched throat and I put the cold glass against my throat and moved it slowly down my chest and stopped between my breasts. I had been sick for two weeks and the chills and sweats came at their leisure. I walked back to the bedroom to find him sitting up and smiling as I entered my room.

He said, ” you are a lovely woman, do you know that?” and I looked at him with a certain amount of disgust and he knew what I was thinking. He knew I knew about his open wallet policy and that was such a turn off, he fucked women and couldn’t remember their names in the morning. He left his wallet open for them to take what they felt they had “earned”. His wallet was on the nightstand with his rolex and his black charge card as if they belonged there.

He patted the bed next to him and asked me to come back to bed and suddenly burst out in laughter. I immediately had a puzzled look on my face as he threw back the covers and got out of bed walking quickly over to me and swept me up only to toss me into bed like a light weight pillow.

I looked at him and then to the night stand and back at him and said “I guess your wallet will not be a penny lighter” and he said “come on babe, you know my wallet has always been open to you but you refused to ask for my help and you turned down all of my offers”. I’m not one your toys and I will never fuck you for money I said angrily.

I pulled my knees into my naked chest and burst into tears and he grabbed me and held me as I cried the death of thousands in this world. I cried for the starving child, I cried for the abused dogs and maimed horses, I cried for the dying cactus in my study but most of all I cried because I had finally put all the pieces together of my own anger and burning rage inside.

I had been angry for so long and since Bob had died the anger grew like an over fertilized lilac bush. The anger bubbled over and covered my body leaving me breathless at times. My tears covered his chest and as my nose ran it dripped on his neck, yet he said not a word about it. He pleaded with me to tell him what was going on in my head, which made me cry harder and made me feel bad because he had traveled so far just to be there for me.

Grabbing a kleenex and blowing my nose, I just couldn’t put the words out there as I did not want to face some ugly truths. He said, you smell like hell girl and it’s time to do something about that. He headed to my bathroom and began to draw a bath for me adding the green gelee vitabath bubble bath and watched as the bubbles grew to massive proportions. He walked through the bath back into the bedroom and stood next to me and said “hey kitten, ya know I love ya but you need a bath desperately and I agreed.

The virus I had was of an ugly strain and affected every part of the body, runny nose, soar throat, throwing up, shitting like a goose, hot and cold, couldn’t eat. The virus left me feeling weak and dizzy and I didn’t have the strength to get out of the bathtub by myself.
He started to tickle me and said “that’s the Kimberly I know and love” and carried me to the bathroom and gently sat me in the tub.

He asked me if he could trust me by myself for a few minutes and off he went, he returned with a glass of hand squeezed orange juice which blew my mind. I asked him where he got the oranges and he said “from my backyard of course” as if it were an every day standard, for him it was but not for me, not to happen-a fucking orange tree? Come on. He sat on the toilet and looked into my eyes and told me I had to keep “moving the rock” until all of me could see the light of day.

He didn’t pretend to understand what I was feeling or why and he knew me to well to push me as that never helped his mission, not even once. He knelt next to the tub and placed his hand gently on my face. The tears began to flow as he applied the exquisite french soap onto the sponge. My daughter had brought back the soaps from Pairs two summers ago as she knew I enjoyed by baths and smelling sweet. Sponge in hand, he began to slowly wash my arm and I pulled it away to cover my face, I hated people to see me cry because it showed my weakness to control my own emotions.

He pulled my hands away and told me to stop crying so he could wash my face and he reminded me with age came wrinkles and they had to be washed as well, which of course made me smile. He handed me the orange juice in the plastic red cup even though I had some beautiful stemware. “I’m not a complete idiot” he said I combined style with safety, style being the juice-safety the plastic cup as he knew that broken glass was taboo around me. He knew the plavix thinned my blood to water and the slightest cut bleed uncontrollably.

He asked me why I was the only woman that he knew that was not offended by juice in a plastic cup and he already knew the answer. He took the cup and set it down as he began to wash my body. He washed my hair and began to shave my legs and crotch. There was no foreplay, no arousel it was exactly what it was. A man cleansing the body of an ill woman.

He rinsed my hair and asked if were ready to get out of the tub and I said yes. I stood up and he took my hand to help me so I would not fall as I still was experiencing dizziness and wrapped me in a theayss towel and held me close. He was an odd man, he brought things from his home that he knew were my little luxury’s, my little pleasures-freshed squeezed orange juice a super soft bath towel.

He picked up my smothered body and carried me back to the bed and got in on the other side. He asked me if I felt better and I said yes and thanked him as I pulled myself up into a sitting position. We sat side by side in silence and he said “spill it buttercup” and I told him to shut the fuck up as I burst into tears. He grabbed me and forced me to his chest and told me to forget the catch and release because it wasn’t happening this time.

“You are the most intelligent, sexy, erotic, funny and loving woman I know, but you are as dumb as a box of rocks sometime, girl”. He said “Kimberly, I am here and have been for years and I’m going to ask you one more time” as he took my hand and looked deep into my eyes. He was asking me to marry him for the fifth time, he had asked three times before I married Bob and this was the second time since Bob had died.

He said to me, Kimberly you know I love you and have since the day we met, you have been my best friend, given me fantastic business advice, bailed me out of jail when I was drunk and stupid. You have helped me in ways I never thought possible and you are a woman like no other. He told me I under valued myself, sold myself short and had the world by the ass but I was to damn stupid to see it and that I was an expert at my own self undoing.

“If you were a normal goddamn woman you would spread your legs and let me fuck you and you would marry me and piss away my money” but no you have to be Kimberly the elusive, mysterious woman that drives me insane. Why can’t you see yourself? Why can’t you accept that you are an awesome person? Why don’t you do the smart thing? You’re broke, alone, have two kids, losing your house and you have lost yourself, so please do the right thing honey and marry me.

Kimberly, he said in a soft yet strong voice – if I have learned nothing at all from you I have learned that you do not marry for love. You look at what is the best in your relationship and if when all is weighed up the scales not only tip but actually touch the counter, it’s then and only then you seriously commit to a commitment.

I was not bullion but a woman filled with rage that came through every pore of my body. I had finally accepted the fact that I could not help myself but needed serious group therapy. I had finally pin pointed the center of the rage and needed to let it go because I was not only hurting everyone in my life, I was destroying myself emotionally and physically I was doing damage to my body and mind which was not repairable.

Marriage? Shit he was talking a life long commitment and I could barely make it through an hour at this point in my life. He had offered me everything a woman could ever want, he was the complete package that the average woman wants but of course, I cannot be the average woman, no I have to stick to my high ass morals and be true to myself.

I feel like the look of a withered rose