spring is here. i know this not only by the budding leaves on the bush outside my patio, but because with the window open, all the lights off and my apartment silent except for the beating of my heart, i can hear the chirping of the bugs outside. it’s a lulling warm sound that makes me happy, but it did not work tonight. there was no lulling to sleep and now i can hear the distant rumble of oncoming thunder and i’m sure sleep will not be had for some time.
as i lay in bed, hands clenched in loose fists under my chin, i wiggled around to find that spot in the bed that fits my hip so perfectly and thought about the emptiness next to me. i thought about the times that it wasn’t empty and about all the 100s of men (both real and imaginary) who have graced my bed. the real ones aren’t all that interesting. i only actually had sex with one of them. the other three were not worthy of me, though i did not realize that until much, much later. one didn’t want to kiss me because the last girl he kissed had been his dead girlfriend and he wasn’t ready to move on. i’m not sure why he found his way into my bed now. the others don’t even merit a mention.
it’s the imaginary men who fascinate me the most. they aren’t completely imaginary, though sometimes they are. these imaginary men are often characters i create in my mind based on men i know in my life. they are men you know. names, if i gave them, you would recognize from comments or from the list on the left. but i know that though these men though based on something real, are wholly figments of my imagination. and most nights i am okay with that.
because, in my imagination i am beautiful and the bed is filled with a man who wants to be there, making my arms less empty and my heart less achey.