This is how you know you’re 30. You’re engaged, but have been flirting with a guy who’s going through a divorce and has two kids, via text messages and facebook chat all day behind your fiance’s back? You want to fuck up the whole “going in the right direction” thing. You want to make sweet, tantric love to a Butterfly, rough and passionate sex with a Hawk and tumble in the covers by a fire under the stars with a Raven. Anything but deal with a fucky ducky.
Ducky. A quacky annoying paranoid Ducky.
Hawk at my party. Putting me to sleep. Holding me, his warm body, breath with alcohol on it. Him, smelling so good, smelling my hair, spooning me, hands all over me, anywhere except trouble. Burying his face in my neck, feeling him almost kiss me when his lips brush through my hair in the crook of my neck. Pretending Ducky was him during sex and having an insanely good..[time….]. F*ck, that crazy mf’er is HOT.
All while Ducky had left my party early. My own fiance. Leaves my 30th birthday party…..early, and falls asleep at home.
I should have slept with his best friend.