July 24, 2013

My German

I saw Peace for the first time in a long while. You all remember Peace. My first love. Well, my first puppy love. I'm not really sure what to call him and that's beside the point anyway. It was very interesting to see him. It's always years between our meetings, but my skin still gets all tingly in his presence and my palms start sweating. My face grows warms and my heart tends to skip every now and then. I wonder if he'll always have that affect on me? I suppose so because there will always be that what-if between us. What if we had lived in the same city. What if we had given things a go. What if we had nurtured our love.

Well, now we're finally in the same city but I think I prefer keeping us in the what-if box. It keeps things more...I'm not sure. I just like that we will never know and always flirt with the idea.

Speaking of flirting, he has definitely grown into a man. The boy I remember was a lanky thing straight up and down, a towering bean pole. He still towers over me and I'm no short gal, but instead of being boney he's now chistled. I couldn't help but notice the definition in his jaw and the muscles rippiling down his arms and thighs.

Who needs a redhead when you have your first love to mingle with? I sure don't know how to stay out of trouble, do I?

scullerymaid at 1:05 p.m.

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