A short conversation via webcam just came to a close.
Dear GOODNESS, why did he have to be that side of the camera? Looking at his clean-shaven face, the crisp white shirt contrasting with his black hair and deep tan, the dazzling smile... I found it hard to concentrate.
I, on the other hand, have been sat here on the sofa in my fleece PJs and fluffy red winter-warm dressing gown, with a friendly mosquito buzzing somewhere around my head. Sexy... I must have looked rabid at times as I whirled my arms through the air for no apparent reason.
Looks and desire aside, I quake at the mere topics of conversation he comes up with. The old (yet relentless) bombardment of questions to which he expects prompt, concise and approved answers.
I feel my answers differ from the ones he'd really like to hear... Kinda...
- When are you coming? The last week of next month, possibly..? (So, what's wrong with today?)
- How long are you staying? At least 3 months..? (WRONG! Correct answer = forever.)
- Have you told your family that we're getting married? Um... They support my decisions, whatever they may be, but they're not exstatic? (In other words, no, as you have not asked me yet in a proper fashion. And you have yet to convince me that you are worth sticking with...)
Etc, etc, etc...
I pray to goodness that you, my man, are as freaking gorgeous on the inside as you are on the outside...
(Because if you're not, it's a waste of a body that good...)
