Dear J

Darlin',

Thank you dearest for celebrating the July long weekend with me.  I couldn't have picked a lovelier spot than Georgia (well, minus the fire ants of course!), so you did well.  I've only been home for a few hours and I miss you already.  I miss hearing your drawl.  It is adorable.

For a man who doesn't believe in public displays between two people, that sure was an incredibly passionate kiss you laid on me while we were taking the escalator to the parking lot.  I do believe I heard applause.  *laugh*  I can feel the warmth of your hand in mine as we crossed the pristine airport floor, through the airport train, into the parking lot and then finally the car where you had the most beautiful roses waiting for me.  I blush at the thought of parking security tapping on the window asking us to leave.  I guess we were in the car for awhile, weren't we?  Quite deliciously naughty, but I couldn't help myself.  

When we got to the room, what I remember was how intensely you looked into my eyes and said, "did I tell you yet about how much I've truly missed you?" and then you fell to your knees and looked up at me.  I don't know if you meant it or you were just teasing me by being overly dramatic, but I tell you sir, it made my heart leap out of my chest.  God, I missed you. It wasn't as though we were apart forever since our last visit, but I was almost embarrassed to admit it first.  I'm glad you did.

All of our kisses and tender moments keep running through my mind. Holding hands while walking along the riverwalk, splashing like idiots through the backwoods, only to arrive at the black tie affair with the jeep covered in mud.  It was funny seeing the expression on the valet's face as I stepped out with my black evening dress and shoes, and you in your dress uniform, out of the muddiest jeep on the planet!  I wish I could have taken a photo of that.

I can't believe that you remembered that I said (before I arrived in Atlanta) that the only thing I wanted to make sure was done on this trip was eating a Georgia peach.  You laughed and told me that some other state had better peaches (was it California or one of the Carolinas?  I can't recall now).  On our way to the airport, I thought you had forgotten.  But you didn't  We stopped at a farmer's stand, you picked two beautiful and perfect peaches.  We sat at the edge of the road and ate them.  The first bite was so sweet and flavourful.  I caught myself saying that it was the best peach that I have ever eaten, but in reality, I am sure that it wasn't.  It only seems that way because you remembered, you purchased it, and you held it out for my first bite.  Whatever it tasted like, to me, I am sure, it will always be the sweetest peach.

The drive back to the airport was long, hot and humid.  The southern wind was blowing through the jeep and through my dress.  I remember tilting my head back against the seat thinking the heat was too much, when I felt your fingers interlacing with mine.  I didn't open my eyes because I wanted to concentrate on the lines of your hands and commit them to memory.  Who knew when we would ever have that moment back?

I am so terribly afraid that you are the one I have been looking for to spend the rest of eternity, but that you don't feel the same.  What a thing to come to realize on this trip. 

At the gate, you were looking into my eyes so hard I thought you could read every single thought that was running through my mind.  Maybe you could.  The kiss was so tender, so gentle, it was almost a whisper against my lips.  Without another word I got on the plane and left you standing there.  I thought I could still see you standing at the gate as my plane taxied away.

The sweetness still lingers on my lips.  Is it the peach?  Or is it the kiss?

Thank you again.

k