Mind Play

February 4, 2013 by Geminieve  
Published in Beauty

I think it’s perfectly normal to look at my life and cry for the past once in a while. I like where I am now but boy was the past fun. I would jump back if I knew I could come back anytime I pleased.

     I feel like running away with a bunch of money and a wicked hot dream…  Instead I wake up every single day to the same exact whining sounds of my beloved, darling, truly adored children.  I love them.  They are my eternal existence.  I do not need to explain my crazy, every once in a blue moon, delusional, fun filled mind erosions to anyone, period.     Some days I wake up and the image standing before me in the mirror is not me.  I have no responsibilities and I can ‘hang out’ with whoever I want.   Sure, that sounds a tad bit immature but remember it is not happening.  It’s fantasy, It’s merely a mind play.  It does not occur all that often, but I rather like it when it does.   So this woman of course is ‘hanging’ with her forever no strings attached boy ‘friend’ not ‘boyfriend’ and digging every moment of him.  The very sight, scent of his cologne, his breathing, his eyes removing every shred of clothing from my body… He then  reminds me… Yeah I’m still that hot, just not maybe so much so physically.  I suck in my stomach, pluck a stray hair from my brow, exhale, turn away from the mirror.  It’s me, still me, just not that carefree, weed loving sex kitten anymore because these two kids have literally crapped, puked, and coughed my libido out of me.     I mentioned I adore them, these adorable, loving, so innocent beings that look to me for acceptance, comfort, and above all, everlasting, I doubting love for them with no exceptions.  I give it to them.  I do so without so much as blinking.  I couldn’t tell you how I survived without their breath and their crying and their adoration for me.  I am not worthy of their love.  I look at them each night when they sleep and I choke back a tear.  I think to myself…I did right where it counted and all else is unimportant.        I look again at her before me… A little heavier, and I stress a ‘little’ because after two kids, traded in my size 5’s for a size 6, ok maybe 7…and that’s not too shabby.  I do sport a bit more belly, ass and thigh.  Sadly not too much more breast and I Botox three times a year.  I can live with that.     I still think about him.  I hold him in my heart.  I don’t smoke as much as I once used to but when I do, and I  rarely do…. I pay him homage, thank him, curse him, and wish he could still be there for a quick… Talk and smoke.  It is mere necesity for me to get lost from time to time even if it is in the webs of my own mind.

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