Apologies for the lack of blogging lately! I've been trying to stay busy because it keeps my mind off how much I miss Cayden. I don't know how all of you other long-distance-realtionshippers handle this, but I feel like I might actually go out of my mind soon. Thankfully, I have amazing friends here who are keeping my spirits up! I would have blogged last night, but I did my first pub crawl on Saturday night, and I learned that once you turn 25 your body takes 3 times as long to recover from a night of beers, rum and cokes, kamikaze shots, sake bombs, and lord only knows what else. I took two naps yesterday and still wanted to crawl under my desk today and curl up in the fetal position. Not cool. Anyway, for those of you who haven't given up on me, here's a post for you :)
By the time we finished dessert and our bottle of wine, I was highly aware that we were 560 feet off the ground and spinning. I put my hand on the wall and felt it move slowly beneath my fingertips as the floor rotated. I was slightly buzzed from the wine, but more or less I was giddy, ecstatic, high on life, even, to be sitting there with Cayden.
I'd ordered the honey-glazed pork chop with bacon, spinach, and vanilla-apricot puree, and Cayden went for the lacquered Chinese duckling, with lo-mein noodles and a bing cherry-port wine sauce. Then we topped that off with a dessert of assorted cookies and gelatos. Everything had gone perfectly, and I didn't want the night to end. At the same time, I wanted the night to end so we could be back at my place, warm in bed, messing around if we could keep our eyes open.
He held my hand across the table.
"Look. Lightning," he said, staring over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and stared at the clouds until my neck ached.
"Is there really lighting, or are you just saying that?" He knew storms were a type of aphrodisiac to me. I know it sounds crazy, but give me a big, fluffy bed and a severe thunderstorm, and consider the mood set.
"No really, look! There it is again!" I cranked my neck around again and stared. I tired to look past the reflection of us and into the darkness, but the image of us caught my eye. I was glowing. No, not like a pregnant lady, thank god. But you could see it on my face that I was so damn happy. The same emotion shone through Cayden's reflection as well.
It made me stop to think, would we always be this happy just to be near each other? Would I always get butterflies when he called me beautiful or when he reached for my hand? Or would we get used to each other eventually, get on each others' nerves, and find excuses not to have sex. I wasn't sure what would happen in our future, but right then I froze that image of our glowing selves in my mind, where I planned to keep it forever.
"There! Did you see it??" I thought it was the flash to my mental picture. I closed my eyes and still saw the after image of us in the window.
"It was beautiful," I said, wishing I could share that after image with him. Sometimes when you're looking at the big picture, you miss the important details.
The waiter came by with our bill, tearing my gaze from Cayden's. I opened my clutch and fished out the $100 my mom had given me the night before. I let Cayden do the math because I'd given up numbers the day I chose journalism. My last math class was calculus as a junior in high school if that tells you anything about my present-day calculator dependancy.
I noticed my phone flashing in my clutch, creating a blue glow on my red Bank of American card. I pulled my phone out and saw that I had a missed call, a voicemail, and a text message, all from Phil. Then I remembered Phil had invited us to meet up with him and his girlfriend after their orchestra date. I was curious to see how he'd survived it.
I looked at my phone and looked at Cayden, trying to decide if I should ignore the flashing notifications and take Cayden home to my bed where we could pretend like it was storming. But another part of me wanted to join them because I never got to do couple things with other couples. I was always on the outside of the exclusive Couples Club.
The text read: We're at the Londoner if you want to join!
How appropriate, I thought.
The Londoner is an uptown pub owned by a former British fruit and veggie salesman. I heard it was the place to be during the World Cup. Well, in Dallas, anyway. I mean, not everyone could watch it at a pub in London with a bunch of drunk Brits like I did.
"Phil just texted me, said he's at a pub called the Londoner. Want to go meet up with them, or do you want to call it a night?" I wasn't sure which answer I hoped he'd pick.
"It's up to you. Phil seemed like a quality guy, so I wouldn't mind hanging out with him again, or we can go back to yours. Up to you really," he said.
"Well, it's on the way home, so let's stop for a drink or two, and then we'll decide."
Cayden steadied me and I tried to stand in my death shoes with my wine-wobbly knees. I wished my feet went numb instead of my lips when I drank. Luckily, I'd had enough food and water to stay sober enough to drive. That's something that was hard to get used to when I moved back to Dallas from NYC. I'd gotten so dependent on the subway to be my designated driver that I had to make a conscious effort to remind myself I'd be behind the wheel after last call.
Cayden let me grip his arm as I tottered across the cobblestoned lobby and into the elevator.
Outside, with Cayden's arm around me, looking up at the towering illuminated ball we'd just come from, I heard the familiar purr of my car approaching. I turned into time to see the valet driver slow to a stop and expertly park my car along the curb. I slipped $5 into his hand as he took my hand from Cayden to help me into the car.
"Enjoy your evening, miss."
"Oh, I will."