[aphelion]

Paulina's message came unexpectedly this morning. I suppose it shouldn't have.

We'd stayed in touch, messaging each other about once a week or so. She initiated far more often than I expected her to, and her sweet and gentle nature always brought me back to her bedroom in her shared flat, and the memories of gently coaxing her into becoming a willing and submissive lover. My responses back to her were probably too earnest and heartfelt; if anything, she was just as guilty of coaxing me into vulnerability as I was of her.

Time had changed my outlook. The ticket stayed purchased, of course. A close call with a job nearly turned the Wroclaw Gambit into a vacation in a winter wonderland. But I bricked the final interview, and my life plans remained, for the moment, set as before.

Paulina was doing well. Life was a little too crazy for her just now, and she was just getting over being sick. She was excited to have me coming. I couldn't help but appreciate the simple joy of being wanted. If she could just hold out for a few months, I'd have a nice warm friend to share a bed in Poland with while the snow was still fresh on the ground.

And somehow, things had changed here in Seattle. I had girls on the rotation now, at least for the moment - something I never thought I'd ever find myself saying. One was a wild and crazy fuck kitten that I could savagely beat in bed, much to our collectively twisted delight - and a good girl to boot, one who cooked and made sure I got plenty to eat. The other, a gal I'd lusted after for years.

And a third was looming on the horizon, another old contact that finally seemed to be panning out. And what a change I'd undergone in four years. She waxed loquacious over the old me - the sweet, kind of dorky guy that tried to flirt with her while she was at work. I asked her if she ever wanted to fuck the old me. The new me found himself knuckles deep in her a few short hours later; old me probably called new me an asshole somewhere in quantum space.

If I was earnest, I was also ruthless. Or was it the other way around? I had good vibes, good intentions, and plenty of charm. And things were finally panning out here in Seattle. What was I leaving for?

Over my shoulder loomed the girl I still pined after. She, both dream and nightmare, the crackle of sparks and a rushing river in my head. I'd danced with her again that day, saving the best of my energy for our raw and kinetic connection. Part of me still stumbled over the words as we briefly talked, part of me still felt like an actor on stage struggling with an unfamiliar script when I stood in front of her. The afterglow had barely died from the sheer carnality of the previous week, and here I was again, as much a babbling fool as I had ever been in front of anyone.

It was time to leave. She was dancing by now, with some uncoordinated schlep unworthy to even pronounce her name let alone lead her in time to the music. Perhaps I could wait, perhaps I could talk to her one more time before I left. Perhaps we could plan something, on a Wednesday or something when we didn't have anything going on. If she wasn't busy, that is.

No. There was nothing to say. Not today.