I would give anything to be there with him...not to form a relationship, not to talk about feelings....just go to the beach all day and fuck all night...that's all I'd want.
The scenario that I've been putting in my head to help me fall asleep now involves me showing up on the beach there in Hawaii (70 lbs. lighter of course) in a hot little black bikini and casually walking by his lounge chair...he'll instantly recognize me and say my name...I'll slowly turn around, peer over my dark sunglasses and smile..."Hey there!" I'll remark...and well....you can imagine what would transpire hours later...maybe a fireside dinner of pork and tropical (alcoholic) drinks...a stroll on the sandy shore...moonlight...dancing at a random club...steamy flirtation...and then...well, I'd imagine it would all end at his hotel room...peeling off sweaty clothes...and fucking until the break of dawn...I can see it all so clearly in my head...the white marble floors of the hotel suite...soft, satin bed sheets covered in the smell of his cologne...the familiar hum of the A/C...and as I look out the balcony of this gorgeous fictional hotel, I see the waves breaking on the beach...the sound of the waves receding...so comforting, so soothing...his soft, rhythmic breathing...he'd never snore so loudly and look as disgusting as Dan.
WAKE UP, I have to tell myself, WAKE THE FUCK UP!
Last night, Dan and I had an argument about keeping the windows open at night...he refused to let me have the window open even a crack...yes, it's cold outside but it is fucking blazing hot inside because he refuses to even have the windows open during the day...I just hate that he decides when the temperature is pleasant...he wouldn't let me run the A/C even on the hottest days of the summer.
I hate him and he will never be as good as my fantasies...and sadly, neither will I.
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