Purrrrrr......

The air is heavy here. Maybe it's me. Nah, it's eveything. It seems everytime I get sick things just seem to go to hell. Am I a plague or something? I'm just getting over another sinus infection and my jaw had been hurting for nearly a week. But not now, not since last night. I read that endorphines are natural pain killers and I think I can honestly validate that statement. I can't stop thinking about him...

It's been a month since I seen him, my Kitty. Last go round, or should I say the first go round was February 2nd, the eve of Super Bowl XLVII- 49ers vs The Ravens (the Ravens won even though I was routing for the 9ers, but who gave a shit, I was euphoric). We had met only a few days before but something was there- a connection. That was the night I made love for the first time. He was so gentle yet so passionate. I was lost in his embrace and his kiss was beyond compare.

But hurricane Mish struck again. After that night he became distant and reserved. I hated it. I was flooded with a line of texts that either read "thanx" or "ok." Not once did he say he had a good time or acknowlege how he felt about that night. So it emerged, the bluntness, the psycho-babble bullshit that is known to send many heading for higher ground- real talk, the workings of the female mentality.

I called him less than a week ago, an accident really. Somehow when my cell is charging and I start farting around on it it will make random phone calls and twacked out texts...

Twacked (v.)- Mish's contraction of the english verbs "trippin" and "whacked," both meanings referring that either something or a situation is not right; weird; not working properly; any event beyond reason and comprehension, etc.

...so I texted him. What else could I do? There obviously was a missed call from me after what, three weeks of radio silence? So I sent him a hi, hope all is well, and apologized for my behavior. I missed him. "Who's this?" He deleted my number? Fucker! But then again so did I. So how did my phone randomly call a number not in contacts? Yup, twacked!

I was so nervous that I actually went into a panic. I had a moderate dizzy spell, my chest hurt, my jaw was killing me, I shouldn't have driven. But I wanted to see him, be in his arms one more time. I didn't want to lose him. I guess it was fear that made me push him away but now the Morning After Syndrome was kicking my ass... More like beating it.

Yeah those endorphines work wonders. He felt so great and had the intensity and passion from before. This time was slightly different. He was more dominating, forceful and all that other primal aggression that I crave. But he was still loving and gentle at the same time. My Lion King, sign of the Leo, my Kitty.

I love my girl. She keeps it so real. Bitch! I tell her everything but she somehow knows more about me than what I tell her. "It takes a real man to be a pussy dammit!" But she and her husband are both leos so I give her all the juicy details. (I'm digging on this guy, seriously.) Kitty lets me pet him- a scratch behind his ear or on top of his head, a belly rub- and he purrs.

As I laid on his chest I nibbled at his chin. His mustache migrated. It went from a landing strip over his upper lip to a weeping willow neating trimmed on the base of his chin. I looked at him, he smiled; yet in the back of my mind I pictured him wearing dark shades while strumming a guitar singing La Bamba. Or maybe I just associated the weeping willow with Los Lobos.

The kids are supposed to be cleaning the bedroom. There's a futon mattress in the middle of the floor in which they decided to zip themselves into the mattress cover inside the mattress itself. They screamed for help. No one came to the rescue, not right away anyway. Justin called out the most. His voice will hopefully be gone by tomorrow. A good ten minutes or so and I peaked in. They really were stuck- couldn't get their tiny fingers far enough out of the hole to reach thw zipper. How did she manage to close it to begin with? Way to go Bug. I laughed.

And still I cannot stop thinking about him. My daughter and nephew apparently need adult supervision and I can't get this man's penis out of head. I can hear her now, "Honey, your just feeling an intense emotional kind of feeling because you just had really good sex and now you're euphoric. Don't mix up sex and love. Remember the Fight Club." Shut up Kim! Bitch! We studied psychology together so we tend to sling the psycho-babble-yada-yada back and forth to each other. Yeah, I know you too, as well as you know me.

What am I doing? Do I really need any romantix hassles, much less feelings for a man I'm banging? He's wonderful. He makes me feel alive. I want it to work but I have broken the golden rule- DO NOT GIVE IT IP RIGHT AWAY. MAKE HIM WAIT. Whoops. So what's a girl to do? Bitch it up, get him sprung and play his game on your turf. I call it "I win."

First rule of Fight Club: You don't talk about Fight Club...