11 December 2009

restraint.



I sat there trying not to eat the fattened olives in my martini. (I always think men look funny eating their drink garnishes)
I could feel you next to me, the heat of you, the smell of your cologne, and your leg was so close to mine, I felt as though they might touch at any minute and I might be embarassed about how hot I was.
I was halfway in by the time you looked over smiling and asked “how are you?”
I wanted to break down, tell you that I am a wreck, that my father died just days earlier  and that this vacation couldn’t have come at a worse time but you smell like him and sound like him and I want nothing more than to take you up to my room and have you hug me...but instead I just said “I’m fine thanks”.
I hurriedly finished my drink with the olives intact, charged it to my room and left without looking at you again.
Back in Los Angeles, I am sitting at the same hotel bar, with the same drink and same bartender, wondering what would have happened if I just would have revealed the truth.

8 comments:

  1. Nicely done. How many times have we all been in that position?
    What if.....................

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  2. It's always weird never knowing whether or not you should take a chance. I have a million stories about a million similar situations in which I did just what you did. You just never know.

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  3. I have my martini with a twist... but what great writing. I really dig this blog. You have a very original point of view. I will be back.

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  4. Great post – honest and heartfelt. You post some powerful stuff here. Thanks for your kind comments over at Six Sentences, by the way.

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  5. Jeffrey, stunning reflective post. Wonder and regret, mixed together, pack a potent emotional punch.

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