Part of me told myself to explore him but be very cautious and the other part said just let him go. But there was that part of me that was addicted to the high, the thrill that he made me feel.
Two more hours, just enjoy it, I thought, and figure it all out when he leaves.
"Is skim milk alright, that's actually all that I have," I asked him with trepidation.
"Skim milk? Oh, you Americans, how can you drink that stuff when it has no taste?" he teased with a strained smile that put me unexpectedly on edge. "Well," he continued, "if that's all you have, I'll drink it," he agreed, trying to conceal his distaste.
As we drank our coffee I handed Tristan a picture book that I thought he might find interesting.
"Have you ever seen a copy of this book? It's called, A Day in the Life of America. There are photographs in here of places in New York, that I thought you might now recognize," I said.
"No, I've never seen it, but I would love to look through it, may I?" he asked, this time acting a bit more genteel.
I had brought out the book as a conversation piece but didn't expect his fixation. While he looked through the book, his attention was consumed, and I felt like my existence had become irrelevant. Half an hour had passed with the book in his lap, and based on his character over the past twenty-four hours, I had anticipated a slightly different farewell. I had seen him oscillate in subtle ways, but was more than a little surprised that in our last minutes together, his focus was not on me. He knew that he was leaving in an hour or so, yet his behavior did not reflect it. I pointed to the picture that was displayed on the page, and offered my input reluctantly.
"This is that unique building located on the corner of Fifth Avenue, called the Flatiron building - you've seen it before, I'm sure," pretending that I was interested just to become a part of what he was doing.
"Yes, I think I have," and suddenly with a look that said he had seen enough, he closed the book and kissed me.
His hands found their way to my face and my lips, investigating every inch. The moisture from his mouth lined the nape of my neck and as he used his tongue skillfully, I felt my defenses escape. He licked his fingers as I watched them get wet, then he fondled the inside of my ear. His fluid was warm and it enabled his fingers to slide seductively, arousing me further as he explored. The moans and groans I had suppressed earlier that day, began to surface all at once. I arched toward him with burning desire letting him know of my erupting passion which, at that moment, had forced me to forget my concerns of his erratic ways. With his arm around me, he placed his hand on the small of my back and gently lifted me to the floor. We slid off the couch onto the soft teal rug and he pressed his body against mine.
"Look at what you are doing to me," he said smiling, as he took my hand and wiped it across his forehead showing me that he was perspiring. "I can't seem to get enough of you or hold you tight enough for that matter," he added.
On his last word I felt his mouth join mine and felt the weight of his body as if he were inside of me. Although we were clothed, I felt as if our bodies had been physically merged and were moving as one, together. His hands sifted through my hair, caressing and pulling, as he literally brought me closer to him and attempted to bring me to a level of need that I would not be able refuse. His alluring fingers stroked the sides of body, my shoulders and everything below it. His gentle but firm touch probed my waist, hips and thighs, as I felt his urgency get stronger. His hips tilted toward mine and I felt him clearly and his hard defined lines were easy to imagine.
"I feel as if I can't breathe," I said to him, feeling my heart race as well as the need to take a breath.
I smiled at him, needing reassurance for just a minute, that what we were experiencing was reality. His next few words to me obliterated my doubt and surpassed my wildest expectations.
"In two weeks, I have five days off and I want to come back to be with you," he said sincerely, as he rested his hunger, and stared directly into my eyes.
Somewhat caught off guard, I looked back at him as I felt his body still heavy on mine. I then ran my hand through his light colored hair and pulled his head down to my chest. I hugged him as if he were a child, knowing that I was about to say something I feared would let him down.
"Tris, I want to be with you more than you know but the whole situation is so unrealistic, isn't it?" I said, as the question in my voice surfaced unexpectedly.
Deep down, I hoped that he would tell me it wasn't hopelessly unattainable, and that it would somehow all become possible. Yet, I was surprised at my own reaction to him, given the fact that I had done everything in my power to experience even a few meager hours with him. And to add to that, it became more difficult to resist him as it appeared that he was finally demonstrating some consistency. He was making an effort to pursue our relationship, yet despite my unsated need for him, I wasn't entirely certain I could. Not yet. I had wanted to live under his spell for the day, but our romantic interlude had limitations that I had cast upon us from the start.
"Nothing is unrealistic if you want it," he said. "It's all within your reach," he added, making it suddenly sound so easy and feasible.
Oh, how I wanted him! I had toyed with the notion of forever with Tristan, but it had all seemed so complicated that I had made a decision to settle for the short time we had together before his flight back to Germany. Despite his desire and efforts to see me, I never even dared to let myself think that he would have actually taken it to the next step. But he was. I had honestly anticipated that in the two short days that he had been in New York, our story would have begun and ended. And not because I didn't want it. Or not because I didn't think he wanted it. It was clear that we did but I wasn't sure that either one of us were prepared to take the strides that it took. We had played out the last twenty-four hours pretending that we had a future. But given the difficulties that would have gone along with it, a commitment between us seemed questionable. We had allowed ourselves the freedom to live out our passion and to at least taste the magic we would be missing. Well, I could only speak for myself but it was my assumption that his reasons were similar to mine. And because of that, there was no reason, in my mind, to prolong the joy we shared or to experience the ecstasy any further. I was in no way pragmatic, and under most circumstances, my heart won out. But existing together for five whole days would strip us of our sensibilities. There was no doubt. There would be no going back. And I truly feared that it would be a mistake. But even if we could refrain from making any irrational decisions, it would be torture for us, nonetheless. It would be self-defeating to say good-bye after sharing yet more time together, and more wonderful, intoxicating feelings. It would be difficult to spend a week side by side, regardless of the ultimate outcome. Yet Tristan was making it difficult for me, merely by giving me the option. Had he not initiated the idea, I would have mourned our dissolution. But I could have done it. And I had reasons to. Not only were there promises I had made to Jordan, but I had fears. Fears of the obstacles that could easily destroy us, and fears, still, of the unknown. If only I didn't feel as if he were hiding something. Or maybe he was suppressing it, something he didn't yet understand himself. But whatever it was, I didn't underestimate the strength of it and therefore it was difficult for me to open myself up and make myself totally vulnerable.
But his encouragement was so tempting, so hard for me to resist. He kissed me again, almost with the intent of enticing me and to let me know what I could expect if we were to spend more time together. His hands began to wander over the curves of my body, this time seeking a little more adventure. I pulled him towards me as my hands ran down his back, tantalizing him, and sending a signal that said I would be comfortable if he explored my body further.
His fingers roamed freely the full length of my frame but had not yet ventured beneath my outer layers. I felt his body generating heat and mine was responding all the same. I suddenly yearned for the touch of his flesh, no longer protected by the intrusion of our clothing. If
there was a chance that we were saying good-bye, I wanted to touch him, just once. And I wanted to remember the feel of him, something I could recall forever.
But just as I let my defenses down, he looked at me and said, "I really have to get going."
I looked back at him with disappointment and the only word that escaped from my mouth was, "But..."
He cut me off immediately as if he had read my mind, and then, as if to reassure me that he too had wanted to proceed, he said, "I just don't want to start something that I can't finish."
Although his thought was not entirely complete, the implication was that he wouldn't have wanted to leave during such an intimate moment just because he was rushing to catch his flight. But his choice of words struck me oddly, and once again, raised questions in my mind. I was searching for an answer, yet the clues I was working with were fragmented, and therefore, it was difficult to envision the clear picture that would ultimately unfold the truth.
"OK," I said, trying to hide my unquenched desire from him, and at that point, my disappointment as well.
"But I will see you soon, hopefully," he said. "But you know that depends on you."
The mix of emotion that I was feeling then, was overwhelming and confused me to no end. I wanted him badly at that very moment yet knew that there was no future for us.
"Tris, there's one more thing that makes it complicated if you come for all those days. It's Jordan," I said to him with reservation. "If you stay with me, I would be betraying him again. I excused myself for this short period of time but I can't pretend that I would just not be available to him for five whole days. And I also couldn't spend nights with you if he were still in my life. It wouldn't be fair to any of us. So I would need to make a decision about him before I could commit to even spending any time with you," I said out loud, not really for his benefit but with the hope of reinforcing the thoughts in my own mind. "I just wanted to tell you, to be fair," I said to him, half of me feeling the need to be truthful and the other half praying that by sharing my dilemma, he wouldn't give me any false hope.
If his reasons for coming were not consistent with mine, it would affect my timing with Jordan. In my heart of hearts, I knew I would leave Jordan, but Tristan was just helping me do it sooner. But given the choice, I would have done it on my terms, and not prompted pre-maturely by an opportunity to see Tristan.
"And even then," I said, "I'm not really sure that it is in our best interest to get together again, given our feelings for each other."
But I knew then, even as I said it, there was little chance left anymore of my turning him away.
"Just so you know," he said purposefully, I wouldn't come to see you if you were still together with him," ignoring my second reason. "I would want to know that you weren't involved with anyone else and that we only had to be concerned about us. Besides, I really don't see how we could just leave it like this. It feels, well, unfinished," he assessed, as he confused me further and seduced me emotionally leaving me nowhere else to turn.
As he began to stand from the teal carpeted floor, he said, "Just think about it and let me know." With not much time to waste as it was already ten minutes after four, we walked to the door, he hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "I'll see you in two weeks."
He took a few steps in the direction of the elevator, looked back at me, then came back to kiss me again. He kissed me on the lips, and once again, I watched him disappear into the elevator, this time knowing that in a few hours’ time, he would be somewhere over the Atlantic.
CHAPTER FIVE
********
I sat in my office the very next day, fidgety, as I had a very hard time focusing. I picked up my phone and dialed the telephone number to my own apartment at home. After ringing two quick times, the answering machine picked up. It meant that there was a message. Otherwise it would have picked up after four. I had called my machine out of restlessness because I usually didn't receive calls at home during the day.
"Hi, it's me," the wonderfully familiar foreign voice said. "I just wanted to say hello and tell you that it was great to be with you yesterday," he continued. "Anyway, call me when you can, and I really look forward to speaking to you." My heart dropped when I heard his sound and I knew then, that if I had still planned on resisting Tristan, I was truly kidding myself.
The next few days came and went as I anticipated getting together with Jordan. I knew what I had to do, regardless of what would or would not transpire with Tristan. We still had our plans for New Year's Eve with the concert tickets Jordan had gotten. The conversation we were going to have was imminent, and had been pending since we were in Indonesia. After the concert I would have to address it, it just couldn't wait any longer.
"Jordan, I need to tell you something that has been on my mind for a while," I said, dreading the sound of my own words.
"OK, I'm listening," he said, anticipating something negative by the tone in my voice. I decided to just come out with it and not mince words in the process.
"It's just not working with us. It's not you. You're great. It's me. I just don't feel what I need to in order to get us to that next phase. I've wanted it to work, I really have, but it takes more than wanting it. I have to feel it. I'm not really sure what else to say because I've been feeling this for quite a while and at this point, my instincts tell me that more time together just won't give me the answer. At least not right now," I said, as genuine tears began to stream from my eyes.
With his head in his hands, his body began to tremble, and I knew that he had begun to cry too.
"But I started to think that everything was OK with us, I really don't understand," he responded. "It appeared to me that we were getting along so well," he added.
"It's not about our day to day interaction Jordan, it's also about what's in here," I said, pointing to my heart.
We talked and talked, for hours and hours, and finally there was nothing left to say. For neither of us. We were both hurting terribly from the loss of a friendship, and from the loss of hope for a life that we may have shared, together. I watched him drive away, feeling afraid, wondering and praying that I had made the right decision.
It had been almost a week since Tristan had gone, and although we had spoken several times, I had not yet confirmed with him that he should come. I had decided for certain that I wanted him to but I just wasn't ready to tell him. The thought of his presence inebriated me and although I had not shared the thought with him, I was counting the days until he came.
The next day at work, I thought about Tristan when something I was doing reminded me of him.
My boss entered my office and asked, "When you get a chance, could you send out some FUN brochures to the folks in the Asia office, and of course, with a little note from you," as he handed me a list with names and addresses.
"Sure, no problem," I responded.
The FUN promotional material was a glossy colored pamphlet explaining in detail about FUN and its worldwide success. It was an impressive marketing tool and I would be sending it to potential foreign partners. Working in the international department, it was critical that we had brochures available in various languages. At the time I had been working on a project for Latin America, so I searched for a Spanish version. First I came across a version in Chinese, then one in French, and then I noticed a language that I was never even aware that we had. At any other time I would have passed it right by, but suddenly, I had become consumed with anything that was even remotely related to him. The German brochure I was holding had given me a clever idea. I found a clean piece of FUN stationary and began to write feverishly:
Dear Tris,
... remember when you so cheerfully reminded me that I might need your assistance with German? Well, I thought about it, and after all, as you put it, I wouldn't want to put myself at a disadvantage, right? So, why don't we make a deal. Two free nights in a New York apartment in exchange for a translation of the FUN brochure in German that's enclosed. Oh, and by the way, the
offer expires in a week.
Thinking of you...
Me
P.S., if you have difficulty translating the words into English, the English interpretation is printed on the flip side of each brochure page! (I'd say you lucked out on this deal!).
After feeling satisfied that I had made my point, I licked the envelope and sealed it. He would understand clearly that I wanted him to come and I knew he would appreciate the flirtatious and creative effort. I walked it to the post office, realizing that if I wanted it to get to him in time I had to send it Express.
Three days had passed, and I anxiously awaited his phone call to confirm his trip to New York. The excitement had been building in me, in some ways, more than it had the first time he came, this time knowing exactly what I could expect. Although I had been mourning the separation from Jordan, it had been suppressed, and overridden by the heightened anticipation of Tristan's arrival. I would have to make plans, introduce him to everyone and figure out how to best spend our time. I had so much energy just knowing that he was coming, I just wanted the moment to come.
Later on, that afternoon, the phone rang in my office. My heart dropped quickly as I realized that the distinct sound of the ring signified that it was an outside call. I hoped that it was him and wanted to know that he hadn't changed his mind for any reason.
"Hi, it's me," he said energetically, with a tone that suggested everything was fine.
"Hi, how are you?" I asked, wanting him to alleviate all my doubts immediately and tell me that he was coming.
"I am just fine and feeling very pleeased after having received your letter today," he replied, as I could almost hear the smile on his face.
"Really?" I asked. "Did you like the German brochure?" I questioned, dancing around what I what I truly wanted to know.
"Yes, I did, but I liked what you wrote even more", he answered. I knew that what he was referring to was the line that read ... thinking of you. "And of course, I am looking forward to seeing you," he finally said.
Unquenched Page 11