Tonight was the night, and it just . . . . . it was "the four of us" and it was "right" just the way it has been in the past, just the way it should have been.
S.O. looked gorgeous, and damn her but she looks that way just walking out of the house. A black top that accented her breasts and her waist, the black the perfect color for her skin tone.
Dounohuiam was the kitchen hostess, her kitchen get-togethers always the best.
My Ruby Haired Princess, matching them cigarette for cigarette.
We had a menu of cocktail shrimps, smoked sausage and italian sausage, with a platter of grapes, blackberries and rasberries, with a separate platter of crackers with bleu cheese, mozzarella and feta.
The night lasted well until after ten, with story after story. Each of us having to give the update on our lives, our loves, our losses, our families, etc. S.O. told the story for me about her mother at a funeral (that's my favorite, and she tells it like it's the first time, every time). And sometime after ten, it was time to start packing it up . . . .
I tried to shake it off at the end, in the driveway, just "making plans" like, "OK, you're leaving early Friday. Now I'll be da-da-da-da-da. . . . so you text me at this point and then we'll . . . " and I tried getting in my car, because I knew what would happen.
She hugged me and I busted out crying like a big ol' nellie fag. Soap opera style. I cried like a baby.
There's not much more to say. I cried.
S.O. looked gorgeous, and damn her but she looks that way just walking out of the house. A black top that accented her breasts and her waist, the black the perfect color for her skin tone.
Dounohuiam was the kitchen hostess, her kitchen get-togethers always the best.
My Ruby Haired Princess, matching them cigarette for cigarette.
We had a menu of cocktail shrimps, smoked sausage and italian sausage, with a platter of grapes, blackberries and rasberries, with a separate platter of crackers with bleu cheese, mozzarella and feta.
The night lasted well until after ten, with story after story. Each of us having to give the update on our lives, our loves, our losses, our families, etc. S.O. told the story for me about her mother at a funeral (that's my favorite, and she tells it like it's the first time, every time). And sometime after ten, it was time to start packing it up . . . .
I tried to shake it off at the end, in the driveway, just "making plans" like, "OK, you're leaving early Friday. Now I'll be da-da-da-da-da. . . . so you text me at this point and then we'll . . . " and I tried getting in my car, because I knew what would happen.
She hugged me and I busted out crying like a big ol' nellie fag. Soap opera style. I cried like a baby.
There's not much more to say. I cried.
No comments:
Post a Comment