L
Lustful_Intentions
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The Long Lost One (Closed for Felisconcolor)
(Disclaimer-It's been some time since I've written anything of this nature, so apologies if the words that flow here are less than perfect. I do like to do a little bit of a build and some development, hopefully that works well for a partner.)
I could hardly believe it when I looked at my inbox.
Settling in on the couch after another 10 hour day, I flipped my laptop open to do the customary perusal of my gmail account. I'd peeked at it on my phone a couple of times during the afternoon, but a day full of meetings had kept me at a distance from it, as usual.
Before I could get to the usual series of emails from friends, the endless Brookstone and Groupon offers, there it was-a name I hadn't seen in almost 7 years.
The last time I'd seen her name was not long before the last time I'd seen her. She'd handed me a new business card with the comment 'They want me to move to Portland. It's a promotion.'
I turned the heavy cardstock over in my fingers, mulling the words. I'd supposed at the time that my only option was to be happy for her, for the opportunity she'd worked for years to obtain, but I knew what the West Coast meant for us: death.
I already had a burgeoning career of my own in Ohio, and much as I'd have loved to pack up and head west, I wasn't ready for the change at 25. I needed to be there for family, friends, and to push my own career forward.
We'd given it a fair shot, which is to say it lasted approximately 3 months and one plane ride each back and forth before we called an end to it. In the intervening 7 years, I'd gotten married and divorced, realizing I possibly hadn't wrapped up some things in my life.
It ended over the phone. A few items-an old sweatshirt, a foul ball I'd caught at an Indians game and given to her, and a few odds and ends arrived in the mail a few weeks later. Before too long, her scent had faded from the sweatshirt, and left me with only a few 'fun' photos she'd taken for me early in our 3 year relationship. Those had survived the marriage-and the divorce, but even they hadn't seen the light of day in almost 3 years.
All of these thoughts converged in my head as I dragged the arrow over the link to open the email, clicking through to discover the purpose...
(Disclaimer-It's been some time since I've written anything of this nature, so apologies if the words that flow here are less than perfect. I do like to do a little bit of a build and some development, hopefully that works well for a partner.)
I could hardly believe it when I looked at my inbox.
Settling in on the couch after another 10 hour day, I flipped my laptop open to do the customary perusal of my gmail account. I'd peeked at it on my phone a couple of times during the afternoon, but a day full of meetings had kept me at a distance from it, as usual.
Before I could get to the usual series of emails from friends, the endless Brookstone and Groupon offers, there it was-a name I hadn't seen in almost 7 years.
The last time I'd seen her name was not long before the last time I'd seen her. She'd handed me a new business card with the comment 'They want me to move to Portland. It's a promotion.'
I turned the heavy cardstock over in my fingers, mulling the words. I'd supposed at the time that my only option was to be happy for her, for the opportunity she'd worked for years to obtain, but I knew what the West Coast meant for us: death.
I already had a burgeoning career of my own in Ohio, and much as I'd have loved to pack up and head west, I wasn't ready for the change at 25. I needed to be there for family, friends, and to push my own career forward.
We'd given it a fair shot, which is to say it lasted approximately 3 months and one plane ride each back and forth before we called an end to it. In the intervening 7 years, I'd gotten married and divorced, realizing I possibly hadn't wrapped up some things in my life.
It ended over the phone. A few items-an old sweatshirt, a foul ball I'd caught at an Indians game and given to her, and a few odds and ends arrived in the mail a few weeks later. Before too long, her scent had faded from the sweatshirt, and left me with only a few 'fun' photos she'd taken for me early in our 3 year relationship. Those had survived the marriage-and the divorce, but even they hadn't seen the light of day in almost 3 years.
All of these thoughts converged in my head as I dragged the arrow over the link to open the email, clicking through to discover the purpose...
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