“I don’t know how you knew my period was going to start today.” I didn’t. How could I? I can’t see the future. No one can. All we can see is the past. And in the past, even my best laid plans gang aft agley. That’s how I knew.
She turned me down last night. She knows the best way to turn me down is to suggest we do it in the morning instead. Which works well. Gives me something to look forward to. An extra reason to snuggle on her as we fall asleep. Maybe I’ll have some good dreams.
When she falls asleep in her usual three minutes, I’m reminded of why she turned me down. She’s tired. I don’t get tired like she gets tired. Not too tired to fuck. But she does.
And suggesting the next morning works well. Unless it’s one of those mornings when she has to get up insanely early, which is fully half of them. When I can, I drag myself out of bed on those mornings and make her coffee. Naked. I can’t stand coffee. I avert my nose while dumping it into the French press. I must love that girl. But no sex. I guess I am too tired to fuck sometimes.
So after she turns me down last night, she suggests the next morning. I’m glad she remembered. She doesn’t always. I put the not remembering down to her being tired and don’t take it personally. But this time she’s remembered. And I’ve got a reason for not waiting. “Your period will probably start by then.” And she has a reason for waiting. “I don’t mind.” I’ve never minded. And she doesn’t mind anymore. How could I mind my woman at her womanliest?
She comes into the living room in the morning, where I’m already sitting around doing whatever it is that I do. In this case, writing.
“I don’t know how you knew my period was going to start today.” Simple. Because I can see the past. And see that even my best laid plans gang aft agley.
Good thing we didn’t mind.