eyes of blue and eyes of brown

The day finally arrives, we have talked and talked and both have built up a mental picture of the other...but now is the time, and the day, when we put the fantasy's aside and step into each others realities.
I havn't seen her in 5 years and my memory is hazy, I know that she is blonde and cute but there the memory ends. I find the place after an hours drive, and park my wagon in front of her house. The curtains move slightly to one side and I see her checking me out. I stride up the stairs, knock and open the door in one movement, and catch her momentarily off gaurd. I put one arm around her waist and lift her off the ground while closing the door with the other...she is both delighted and alarmed,and squeels with pleasure. She is absolutely knockout georgeous, 5'3" blonde hair,blue eyes, and little short black dress. She takes my breath away.
The afternoon slides into evening, she has cooked meat, I have bought wine. Her neighbour arrives drunk as a grenadier and proceeds to strip off her clothes..her body is delightful, but her raddled face belies her alcoholism, and the constant flow of tears gives lie to her uncontrolled depression. I am a qausi expert on the subject this week, having just read a book called "shoot the damn dog". Bought in a moment when I was thinking of Lisa in New York and wanting to understand what she was experiancing.
The evening burns through into night, and still we talk..I'm still not quite sure how I managed to stay the night in her bed, but someone was guiding my good fortune.
5 a.m though and I am having to drive my cold miserable arse the hour back home to work..the weather is pipe frozen cold, and the day is spent in withdrawal...not quite knowing what fits where.

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On Tuesday I make the same phone call that I have been making for the last twenty something years..it takes several attempts, she is now famous, and in charge of some 20,000 people, so others are wanting her time. She is though, expecting my call,it is after all her birthday, and we slide easily and seamlessly into the conversation of hearts that we have continued and shared together since we were not much more than kids.
"How's your neck?" I ask..."it's getting so wrinkly I have to wear a turtle neck" she laughs in reply.

"I see you did the ironman" she says "how'd it go" The event was four months ago but I am secretly thrilled that she has remembered and cared enough to look up the results. "swim bike and waddle as usual" I reply, and she laughs music.

"How's your mother?" she asks. A question still a little gilded with sadonic irony.My mother once threw her out of our house for not wearing a bra under her tee shirt...we left together and hitchiked hand in hand the 225 miles to her house where the question was never raised.
"She was biking down your way recently" I said "Oh, shit" she says, "I saw her photo in the paper and meant to cut it out for you, but I forgot"

"Wanna go to Portugal and lie on a beach?" I ask "yes" she says without hesitation.

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Married one arrived on the weekend wanting to be humiliated and used...I happily obliged, although there was a small moment of conflict, since I am dipping a tentative toe into a new emotional pool...I explained the situation to married one, it only heightened her arousal...it's a funny old life, once you have garnered the financial and emotional tools to sit back and enjoy it.

Winter drags on though, and while the days have stretched a smidgeon summer still seems a long way off.