Feels Like Spring This Fall

‘Cuz I’m Falling

Dr. Anita

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I took this.

I feel the affection of a new lover upon me.

It feels like a symphony.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you,” he texts.

Good.

He’s said it twice.

But it feels like five times.

When he says it, I feel a bolt through my heart

— a shiver on my skin.

A giddy chill.

It’s been a minute since I felt a chill like this — one that comes from a deep-seated sense of a probable promise for more.

I feel his intention settle on my spirit. He sees me.

He says my name.

“Anita.”

He listens.

When someone follows the trail of me like this —

I pay attention.

I told him I write.

He asked to read my stuff.

I sent him two articles from Medium, warning him, “You can only read three articles per month, if yer not a member.”

An hour later, he texts, “I subscribed to Medium so I could keep reading.”

And then five minutes later,

“I haven’t met anyone like you before.

You are honest.

And I’ve literally never encountered it before.”

Good.

I wanna be your first.

He’s coming over for pizza tonight. Actually, he’s coming over for sex. We are going out for pizza, first.

This’ll allow the tension to build — to be boy-girl on a date, to catch up after a week apart, and to enjoy the warmth of being two people hot for each other, in a crowded diner.

It will be our third date.

Our second date was last Saturday. I said to him spontaneously at 2 pm last Saturday, “Do you wanna come over and play guitar and sing?”

“I’d love to,” he texted.

This was after I had told him on Friday, the day before — when he asked me if we could get together again that weekend — that I needed the whole weekend to myself.

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Dr. Anita

Doctor by trade; artist at heart. Musings on life. Enjoy inserting humor ‘n hope into the pain. Quiet is scarce in this day and age; reaching for it.