his fault

i blamed him entirely.

it was meant to be just a glass of wine. a good story. and  goodnight.

when we met we kissed cheeks once in greeting and i pulled away to sit down, but he pulled me back. kissed the other side, said that's how it was done where he came from.

and i was charmed by this.

we sat on opposite ends of a very large booth.

and i can remember almost nothing we spoke of. only that he moved closer, pulled me towards him.

how his knee touched my knee. and how i was surprised by this. surprised by my own delight.

how his hand reached for my hand. and it was...delicious.

and when our mouths finally met, it was one silent of course after another.

how our first night together he turned to me, still half-alseep and asked if i wanted to hug, the sounds of those words all sloshy in his mouth.

and i nodded, let him pull me close, knowing that hug was entirely the wrong word.

but i was nuts about him for that word alone. because i knew what he meant and i liked what he meant and hell, if he wasn't a man who made every bit of my body go soft with wanting.

and i blamed him entirely.

image credit unknown

mostly

i mostly just want a life of slow-dancing in the kitchen.

and that's not too much to ask. is it?

image credit unknown

my favorite part of the night

the way you took my hand in yours, just below the table. and how nobody else knew. heaven was that moment.

image credit unknown

snowy New York

 

 

i've been sick for nearly a week with the stomach bug that's going round and have barely left the apartment, but for the really necessary things.

waking this morning to an absolutely white carroll gardens was such a treat--for all the fuss about the snowstorm a month ago, it's been a pretty snowless winter here in new york and this texan really loves a white winter. i took a twenty minute walk as the snow pummeled down (and then promptly had to take a three hour nap), but it was totally worth it. something about a blanket of fresh snow that makes it feel as though the world is taking a deep breath and so i can too.

i hope everyone has a happy (and healthy) weekend.

(and that spring is just around the corner).

xo, meg

...

Don't you get it? She's the house! She's the plain white shutters, the sparkling glass windows, and the perfect white picket fence. She's the ordinary stuff. But you...you're the red door. And when people come by, yeah, sure they see the house. But for some reason, they always end up looking at the door. It's always in the corner of their eye. You can't ignore a red door. And the house is nice, hell, the house is perfect. But then there's that door. It's almost painful to look at. You're the door. | Chuck Palahniuk