Jolene

‘Jolene. Jolene. Jolene. Jolene. That wasn’t her name but it could have been. I fell in love with him in college and for the last seven years we have remained close. I never turned him away even though we didn’t live together.

He had his place and I had mine, I never went to his and he had a key to mine. It started in college and continued until today. When I tell you I never had eyes for another, that is the truth. I never dated, never been with a girl, didn’t see myself as gay, but I took care of his needs.

To say there was nothing special about him would be a lie because everything about him was special. 6’ tall, sandy blond hair with the bluest eyes. His body was lightly haired, cut, and cut, in all the right places. He was big but not overly so, muscles, calves, thighs, and then his ass. And let’s not forget about that shape in the front of his pants.

It was something we never talked about but when we came together it was magic. At first, I took care of his need and after a while, he reciprocated with talent. In the beginning, I didn’t complain because everything was on his schedule and needs.

I assumed that the woman he dated just couldn’t do for him what I was able to do, and I was ok with that. He never treated me like a girl, would give as good as he took, and we never talked about it.

I’d cum home some days and he would be there, others I would hear his key in the door and know. He never put his degree to work and the luck of the draw had me making considerably more money than him.

I loved buying him clothes, well, I loved watching him trying stuff on and asking me what I thought. At first, he said, “no. You’re not buying my clothes.” Then I think he saw how happy it made me and conceded.

We did it about every other month or so and as he tried stuff on I’d be loading my arm. It was always the same, he’d walk out and turn around looking over his shoulder at me. He turned to look at me with a tilted head and mine tilted in the other direction like when we kissed.

“What?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” And I stood in front of him.

I mean I had picked it out; the pants were perfect but something was off. I rolled the sleeves under so they were about two inches from his elbows, pulled the shirt out of his pants, and said, “look at yourself in the mirror.”

Our outings always included lunch or dinner depending on the time and on those days he spent the night. It was on one of those nights it happened. He called out someone else’s name. And we never talked about it.

That was a year ago and I pushed that to the back of my head because it was only that one time. That was then. When we came together it was a night that started with a shower and most nights it ended the same way.

I just really wish we’d have talked. He lavished my body in the shower as well as in bed. When I say a night; it took all Night. It’d start with a shower then the fireworks, us in the sixty-nine position. I could tell which one of us would be first.

He liked it being able to see me; I liked it the same way. He didn’t like the sex of it but more the making love part; not once did we ever say those words. I wanted to, really did, but what happens after you say it?

Would it have put pressure on him if I said it first? Sure as hell it would have. What would I have said if he told me, he loved me??? I knew he did love me and with everything he knew, I loved him. Jolene.

Even though he was bigger than me it was my chest his head lay upon. I’d lie awake, his breathing so clear and smooth, but it wasn’t my name he said in his sleep.

Her name isn’t important. Jolene. I sat at the kitchen table writing him a letter before I left for work. “Jolene. I’m begging that you don’t take my man.”

Here I was. He never called out my name and I never recalled the name he called out for. Think about it. We had been in this fucked up love affair over the years, the love and passion we shared, and I wrote.

‘Jolene. Please don’t take him just because you can’. The paper was stained with my tears.

‘Your beauty must be beyond compare, eyes of emerald green, with ivory skin I must not have. Please don’t take my man’. I can’t compete with you’. The paper stained more with my tears.

‘Now you could have your choice of men; but I can never love again, Jolene. His smile is like the summer rain and I can’t compare with you, please don’t take my man’.

I’d looked at what I had written, my heart on paper. ‘He talks about you in his sleep, there’s nothing I can do to keep him from crying out your name in his sleep; Jolene.’

‘I’m begging; please don’t take my man. Don’t take him just because you can.’

I left for work slipping what I wrote in his pocket; thought about it all day long. I sat on the couch thinking about it with take-out; never taking a bit.

A key in a lock; I couldn’t believe it. His hands came over my shoulders and he apologized, over and over. “Do you know I love you?” He asked. I had already started to cry.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.” I gave his hands a squeeze.

“So I gave notice, I’m gonna need a place to stay. What do you say, Joe?”

FYA.

Another distraction. Robby and I are collaborating. It came over my phone; Jolene. I wrote this in less than two hours. A thousand words is a lot when you write; maybe not so much as you read.

I have to ask; Do you even give a fuck???? RJC.