Monday, February 12, 2007

Valentine's Day

I'll probably get up about eight or nine, possibly put some washing on, maybe do a bit of ironing.

I could listen to some Love Music...

Later on I might write some poetry, dwell temporarily on my past, remembering the good times. After that I could go for a drive. Somewhere peaceful that will reflect my contemplative mood. I'll consider LOVE and the times I thought I'd found and known love. The feeling, the abandon, the gut-wrenching abstinence. Then I might recall the moments when I thought love had been lost. The despair, the redundancy, the soul-destroying gravity.

Or I'll imagine our date. At the arboretum. Where we would always have gone if you'd stayed another day. The place we'll always be going tomorrow. Walking and laughing and running and breathless, catching leaves to make wishes for each other. We could take a cool bag with some scones and clotted cream and jam, and a flask of hot tea.

On returning home I could bask in the joy of being alive and consider how fortunate I am to have the things I have. I should ring my daughters and my sisters and my Mum. Later still I might put the heating on, then run myself a nice hot bath, and afterwards just put a bathrobe on. I could even break open a bottle of wine, just to put an edge on the day.

Then finally, when the day is almost done, I'll snuggle up on the sofa, put on a DVD, and wank myself into oblivion.

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