No new mail..

I guess having a man in jail can be sometimes no different to having a man out here. They still find a way to leave you feeling disappointed and alone, granted it is different now. It isn’t so easy to pick up the phone or send a text and there are barriers in the way when it comes to communication. However I was expecting a letter today, beings he hasn’t called and it has now become clear he won’t being calling until credit day, he could have wrote and explained this in a letter to me. Maybe I am being a little premature, if he wrote on friday, 2nd class stamp, then depending on the screws it should be here today. Failing that we shall hold hope for tomorrow. The birthday card I was so looking forward too, the card where he was told he could bring in on a visit then told no should hopefully be on its way to me to. The scrambling of the keys to get inside my flat front door, the flustering before I even put my bags down I take a look at the space where a letter would be. Nothing. My heart sinks. It reminds me of the times my battery phone would go dead, the franticness of charging your phone to see if he had text. He being who ever it was at the time. I don’t miss that either. I really don’t.

I have so much going on in my life, the new business, university, work, sorting my self out. No one could ever accuse me of not being independent, or not being able to cope on my own. I 100% can, and I 100% will. I love him and this is what women do for the man they love. It doesn’t stop me thinking about sex though, the crave gets so bad. I drift of into daydreams about our first time again. Imagine him touching my naked skin as he looks at me with those hungry eyes. I imagine how I will look for him in an underwear set to make it real special. He can melt me in one with that look, the look that tells me he needs me now. The look that fills me with love and lust. Obviously it is him I long for, him I am waiting for but going without does weird things to a woman. Every man becomes a target, if I day dream too long I think about what it would be like, what would they look like naked. 9 times out of 10 I shudder with disgust and then the mind goes back onto him. I can still picture him naked, smile at how quickly I could make him hard, feel warm when I remember his words in patois telling me how much he loved me. I miss him so much, no other man would be the same… would it?!

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