Morning After

I crawl out of my skin and melt across the floor into a puddle of my own guilt. The tears somehow manage to hide themselves as I bury myself deep into the emptiness where I dwell. It has been months since my last cigarette. I now count the time in weeks instead of hours or days; 14 weeks of cravings have left me more energetic and much less interesting.

“Good morning baby” she says to me half awake, “are you feeling ok?”

“I want to die” I mumble under my breath as I turn away. I bury my face between the blanket and the pillow.

She slides over towards me as her hand caresses my shoulder, gently pulling me out of the darkness.

“Come on honey” she continues “we had fun didn’t we?” I pull back the choked up feeling in my throat. It burns as I withdraw its symptoms.



“I don’t know.” I pause. “I guess.”

“Baaaby” she whispers in a sweet sexy voice that melts me all over again. I turn over to see her face. She’s happy to see me with a bright beautiful smile. It devastates me. I pull back to withdraw my weakness. My eyes burn as I maintain her perception. “Something wrong honey?” she asks in confusion, wiping my cheek free of the pain. I grab her wrist, allowing a tear to mark its trail on my face.

“I’m fine. You just melt me with your beautiful eyes” I try to convince her as I pull her arm closer to my chest. She kisses the tear away from me with her soft lips.

I want to tell her how much she means to me; how she makes me feel, and how I feel about myself when I’m with her, but instead I just squeeze her tightly in my arms. The concept of loving her seems selfish to me. Is it love? Would she have to feel the exact same way as I do in order for it to be a reciprocated love? I battle my thoughts instead of pouring my heart. I pull her head closely against mine as our lips meet; the heavenly sensation a temporary moment of euphoria. I grab her hair in my fist and pull her head back slightly. My sense of smell engages the line I draw across her lips and down her chin.

“What should we do for breakfast?” she asks cheerfully as she pulls away. “Baby! What’s wrong?” she asks as she wipes my face again.

“Nothing” I confess to her. I look her in the eyes and she smiles. I try to smile back but my lips only purse slightly. “You know I was in the hospital not too long ago.”

“Why?” she asks. “Were you sick? Do you have something?” she continues with self concern.

“I collapsed a lung from smoking too much” I answer her as my hand rises towards her face. Her hand rises to meet mine, but it is ignored as my fingers make their way to the top of her head.

“I thought you didn’t smoke Adonis?”

“Well, the problem worsened and I had pneumonia for a few days. And I don’t smoke.." I reply to her interruptive inquiry, “...but I used to.” My fingers caress her skin along the subtle lines of her face. She giggles and squirms in such a way that her head doesn’t move, allowing me to continue caressing her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she inquires in a more solemn tone. Her body slides to a stop as the room darkens. Her smile now resting peacefully in my memories.

“Not if it’s going to take that smile away” I joke.

“We can if you want.”

“It’s ok. I was thinking of making you pancakes, and maybe…”

“Don’t you change the subject” she interrupts.

“…some bacon on the side” I conclude. She smiles again. My chest lightens as the air sinks deeper into my lungs. I blink my eyes slowly as I enjoy the fragrance she radiates. The softness of her breath fills my heart as she laughs at me.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” I answer.

“Are you smelling me” she demands.

“Noooo…” I jokingly reply, revealing the opposite as truth. My eyes open to see her staring right into them. I hesitate, aware that my breath might require refreshment after a long night and an early morning. Such an interesting tool sarcasm has evolved into. From humor to anger, sarcasm serves as a defense mechanism for those that feel threatened and as a warning for those that intend to harm.

“So pancakes?” she requests as her hand covers her stomach.

“Yeah. I can make you some pancakes.”

“I don’t want bacon Adonis” she requests, “and maybe it would be better if you didn’t have any either, I want to keep you around for a while, ya know?”

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart” I assure her.

“I like hearing you say my name.”

“You like it when I say Jessica?”

“Ooooh” she replies with a sexy undertone, “say it again” she asks of me as she grabs onto me, perhaps in a vain attempt to draw me closer, or perhaps to draw herself closer to me.

“Jessica,” I repeat softly.

“Could you make me something for my hangover?” she requests.

“Hangover? Judging by that smile, I would have never guessed” I reply.

“Well, one of us has to smile, right?” she argues.

“I suppose one of us has to bay…” she interrupts me with a stern, if not adorable, facial expression as she points her finger up at my chin. “I mean… Jessica. I’ll be right back with one of my famous Bloody Mary’s.”

“Oooh, that sounds yummy” she states as the smile returns to her face. Again I melt at the sight of her beauty emitting into the room. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Not much” I answer as a grunt escapes me. I raise my body as I pull my arm out from under her.

“Wait” she cries out silently.

“What’s wrong babe?”

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re not ready for what?” I ask her.

“I’m not ready for you to leave me.” A smile escapes from the side of my lips. I fall onto my back next to her. She crawls on top of me, dragging the blanket along with her. Her warm body strengthens my resolve. I smile as I look into her eyes.

“I’ll be in the next room” I assure her as I again attempt to leave the bed. The morning chill hits my body as I search for something to wear.

“You mean the kitchen?”

“Yes, the kitchen. Ten feet away” I sarcastically assure her once more as my search concludes with a pair of jeans on the dresser.

“Ok, but don’t be long” she requests as she watches me dress. I turn towards her as I zip my jeans. Her focus rises to meet my smile.

“Well pancakes take a little while to make” I answer gently; aware of her options to seek nourishment elsewhere.

“Then make something else” she proposes.

“I don’t know if I have anything else.” I explain, “I can maybe scramble up some eggs” I offer, hoping desperately to satisfy her hunger. She pouts. I move back towards the bed. She lifts the covers, displaying her naked body before me. My gaze crawls across her skin, slowly absorbing every curve. “You look good enough to eat” I tell her.

“First you feed me, then you can eat” she negotiates.

“Deal” I answer as I leave the room.