Almost Doesn't Count

It was supposed to be a great weekend. One of those great weekends. My lover was coming over. We were going to have a great time.

We would start by meeting at Garden City. Smile at each other from the distance. Soon we would be sitting very close together, closer than most people in public places sit. We would let our hands and fingers move over each others nape, knees, collars, waists, cheeks, with the same ease and familiarity with which they move over own own bodies. I would look at her as if she was the central point of all vision and she would look at me as if I was the only real thing in the mall and we would laugh and joke and laugh for hours. Then we would go home and walk around naked because we were not scared of arousing each other and when she would leave she would leave me happy but I would feel sad.

But that's not what happened. My lover and I sometimes pretend to be a couple, but we are not. I am not her boyfriend and she's not my girl. We just have these rare weekends when we get together to act like it. Neither of us mentions her fiancé or the fact that we haven't spoken in a month and a half.

This weekend wasn't a great one. In the morning she was distant and I was bored and she was thinking of her own problems waiting back at her home and I was reminded of how useless you are to someone when all you can ever give them is a weekend fuck.