I Love Fucking In The Bathtub
The open area is filled with spectators, despite the weather. The crowd shudders in unison as a fresh blast of frigid air whistles through the air, the streets, the coats and the already damp blankets of those watching.Smart peddlers mingle with the crowd, attempting to foist everything from food to hope on the gullible and the desperate. Pickpockets slither from group to group, avoiding the notice of their victims, evading the constables with long practiced skill.Men in smart suits stand shoulder to shoulder with coal merchants and cleaners. Women, flushed of face or hardened to the spectacle stand in small groups, gossiping noisily as children run through conversations, under legs, and on and off any platform they can find, aside from one.The reason for their presence stands in the middle of the green, a large, temporary, wooden structure, built without style or care. A rough ladder leans to the side of the construction, the only means of access to the upper levels.A pair of wooden. Politely, we talked about our connection after his visit. Like we haven’t talked about keeping him in the states regardless but I wanted him in my life forever after meeting him. He said yes to the proposal. I bought the rings, had them delivered from Spain & took a selfie with them. I was his #MCM the Monday before I came to visit. I started writing my vows after that, he started writing his vows after that. We had a hell of a week, of ups & downs separately but forever kept our eyes on the prize. Because when we finally saw each other again, it was like falling into a liquid mirror; his hug was so mighty I felt at home. We began to build more to it, on a difficultly hilarious ride to his abode. Talking about feelings, the move, explaining other trivial things of the week, warning me of what’s around East Haddam, holding each other’s hands, massaging the back of each other’s heads, kissing at red lights, making him pull over to actually make out & getting to know each other.
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