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Lene
member info
Lene
Denmark
Rank: Not rated
I live with my husband and cat. I do not work. All my day is devoted to reading and watching TV, sometimes helping my husband, and walking through city.member stories
All these days I was visiting him, my dear, my secret and forbidden love. He is sick, he needs help, though rejects it. Seems to be very stubborn. These days he did not talk much. I also kept silence to the full extend understanding the situation I am in. My husband is his friend probably. I need to be as careful as it is only possible not to show that I have any emotions towards him.
Yesterday it was windy and cloudy outside. Plus really cold. We were sitting on his couch, looking through the huge window. He was covered with quilt, grasping with his slender hands a glass of hot tea with lemon. He was so close to me. I felt the warmth of his body through all these cloths. My feelings were tense and fingers trembling. We did not know what to talk about.
- You husband is a very good man, - said he unexpectedly, - don’t you think so?
It was a very strange question, frankly speaking. Plus mentioning my husband, as if remind me about his existance. Making me feel guilty for nothing. Yet. ...- Read full story | 1 comment
Posted on 7 December, 2005, 5:54 am by Lene
Category: Secret Love
I remember his eyes. Grey bluish with pink reflections of neon advertisement across the street. He was standing by the window, watching outside. That is all. That is all… That is a dream I had several nights ago. And his face was so familiar to me! Though I was trying my best to recall him somewhere in my life, I could not. But today I saw him in reality. Or maybe, that was not a dream at all? Maybe now I think that his image was with me that night? Maybe I convinced myself in that?
You are doomed to experience shock if someone absolutely unfamiliar from your dreams is facing you unexpectedly. I cannot describe my feelings. They were happiness and grief at one time. Astonishment of course. It is hard to divide that mad mixture in my soul for separate names. I cannot.
I remember I touched his hand. His fingers were delicate and as cold as the air outside, gripping the end of his quilt. They absorbed my warmth, making me feel icy. Just as he probably felt himself. And one special feature in him – very sad, maybe even sorrowful eyes. Do you know winter or late autumn sky, which is just about to rain or snow? That is his eyes. I know no thing in the world to express him more precisely than this one.
- Thanks for coming, - he said quietly, - though there was no need. ...- Read full story | 0 comments
Posted on 2 December, 2005, 6:02 am by Lene
Category: New Love
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