runaway princess…

Dear Diary,

I haven’t felt such sensation since my lover’s last visit and frankly Mr. Voisine made just the right impression. When I laid my eyes on him for the first time at the Amari Boulevard lobby, I couldn’t help to bury my skepticism of what could be a wonderful evening.  He was wearing a white thin line striped shirt, khaki pants and black shoes. His brown hair was slicked back, obviously with a little help from Gatsby. He was as handsome as his picture, yet I imprisoned any sign of over adoration for the sake of my flagged pride.

Dinner at Tony Roman’s was filled with various stories as the white wine took its stroll throughout my body by the end of the meal. I made him laugh as he made me race toward amazement.  Mr. Voisine was brilliant, a 34 year old with greater sex appeal than any 20 year old I knew.  He’s stepped his foot in various places. I was sure he’s stepped his heart in and out of few more than his high school sweethearts. He’s tasted life and exposed more stories than regrets. Oh, I adore men as such. He was forthcoming, down to earth, and articulate with pretty hazel eyes that I fell in love with immediately. He was classically handsome with what seemed to be the complete package I couldn’t wait to uncover.

Bed Supper Club, my favorite venue was our next stop and I couldn’t help to think that I was setting aside my Swedish distant lover for a change.  I realized that after one year of continuously being far away from him in addition to his negligence, as a young female mortal, my heart cried out for a small break.

Mr. Voisine and I began the evening with a simple Heineken as we gave room for fluent conversation.  I thought of my lover sporadically reminding myself to expect only innocent moments with the French Canadian standing before me. I expected absolutely nothing. Nothing at all, until the evening reached its peak and Infatuation took me by the hand and commanded me to harbor between Mr. Voisine’s shoulders at one of my favorite songs.

It’s been too long since I carried my body across the floor in such an erotic way as my lover was never much of a dancer himself. It always bothered me yet I clutched not too long to the thought as Mr. Voisine drew his body closer to mine.

Whether it was Fate or the Devil flicking his finger, I possessed almost no time to savor any thoughts. My body danced along his body as my lips danced with his lips. I devoured him completely before allowing myself to turn away and reach for the Bailey’s Irish Cream he brought me.  Guilt remained an uninvited guest as my heart shivered only in blissful ecstasy.

I kissed him with such erupted hunger inside the elevator of Amari. We entered the room and I wasted a good ten minutes with an open chit chat about ice hockey. Yet a growing impatience was boiling within and I surrendered to the little voice that no longer whispered.

I wanted Mr. Voisine as a woman. A young woman waiting to say good bye to her distant lover. A woman who wished for that divine, passionate, eternal, earth shattering love.

Oh, If only I was prepared for the plans Fate had wrapped for me. If only I was realistic enough to think that I never had any absolute last words for anything in life.  If only I was aware of the power of wishful thinking. If only I had acknowledged the supremacy of Time and Destiny just a little bit more…But then again, who can?

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 8th, 2007 at 10:14 pm and is filed under Songs About Him. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.