Covid had really knocked my confidence. Just one of those things, can’t be helped. Before the pandemic began, I’d tended to the garden of my confidence, and it had flourished. I had flourished.
But my mind had necessarily been on other things. Family in hospital, new babies I didn’t dare meet for fear of infecting them. Loss. Grief. Fury. The unknown, the unthinkable.
You make do. It doesn’t make it easier. You survive, somehow. Put on a brave face for those who need you more.
And so my confidence had been neglected. Invasive species returned to my garden. My insecurity a str*ngler fig – growing around me, leeching my energy, threatening my stability.
I’d become diminished. Less whole than I’d been in years.
And as wonderful as Doug had been throughout – I don’t know, it’s weird to say. It almost made this trip harder. Was I good enough anymore? After all this time, the build-up and anticipation, would it be worth it? Would I be worth it?
Doug and I sat side by side in bed, drinking tea. And for awhile, none of that mattered anymore. I relaxed. For the first time in a very long time.
The warmth of the sun shined on the garden, and I felt myself begin to unfurl and blossom again. Respite, if only for awhile.
He made me feel OK again, and that meant the world to me. I’d never have asked, and I’d never have expected to find it here.
That was when we were just chatting, too. Things he didn’t mean to do. When we finished the tea, I discovered that there was more.
He shuffled next to me on the bed, supposedly to put his cup next to mine. But stayed right beside me, wrapping an arm around me. It was just so nice to be touched, after all this time, too. The little things, too.
Doug leaned back and gently pulled me with him. Then his hands began to wander – up, not down. Usually when a man reaches for my hair in this situation, I’m on my knees. Not now.
And as the metaphorical sun had caused me to unfurl, so now I melted. Any last tension disappearing under his fingertips as he rubbed my scalp. I probably made some unspeakable noises, and I didn’t care. God, this felt good. He kneaded my scalp, neck and my shoulders, in turn. Returning me to being a puddle of goo – in a different way to before.
Not something we’d discussed, not something I’d ever looked for in this kind of scenario. Like many, I suspect, I’m suspicious of such things, that it’s a ploy. But it was exactly what I needed in that moment.
And even if the struggles of the pandemic had diminished me, made me less than; even if the wind, the fucking, and the scalp massage made my hair look like Cousin It had been electrocuted, I didn’t care.
This had been a long time coming, it had been entirely worth it, and the weekend had only just begun. |
