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                “No, you won’t.  Besides, you’re not violent and I wouldn’t let you.”  I grinned like a cat and stretched.  I was the lioness of this jungle, and I knew it.  I even did a wiggly dance and stuck my tongue out at him.  He stood there smiling at me and shrugged.  That guy is just so easy going.

                “True.  I guess I’ll just have to beat you at Scrabble tonight.”  He held the door open, and tugged me inside. 

                “If we have time for that, which I doubt.  And you wouldn’t beat me; you’d be too busy staring.”  I teased him, he was so much fun to poke fun at and tease. 

                He blushed, probably thinking about me hiding letters in my bra or showing him lots of thighs like last time.  “Maybe.”  I walked into his arms and studied his face.

                He had the bluest or greenest eyes, depending on the light, and a mop of brown/blondish curls and an infectious smile.  He was a skinny cute haole who loves books.  What was I going to do with him?  Could I chain him to the bed and never leave?   Silly, wishful thinking…

                The night wasn’t long enough, nor was the 3 days we spent together.  I made so much noise during the night and day; thank God there were no neighbors to hear me.  I’d have been embarrassed if anyone knew the depths of my enjoyment and my contentment.  We washed each other, napped together in between, cooked together, and had a blast.  We watched movies, went for a swim at warm ponds after I took him to dinner in Pahoa, and played with his kittens.  I did wish at one point for time to stand still and for the chance to hideout like this longer.  But reality intruded on us in our own little paradise.  I had to go back to work on Oahu despite him asking me not to go back at the airport. 

                And he had to remain here.  It just wasn’t meant to be. 

                In between those near out of body experiences he’d given me, my heart clenched tightly.  I couldn’t do this anymore; I’d fall for him and be devastated for sure.  He was much less ambitious than me, and I wasn’t very ambitious at this point so we’d be bad together.  I don’t think living in a tent would be that romantic and he was currently living on his friend’s couch for the long duration, for a few years in fact.  It was pretty hard to find steady work in Hilo, or so I’ve been told.

                I needed to escape him, to go running back into my safe orderly world.  Passion or no passion, there were responsibilities and bills and work.  The plane ride home was one of the saddest, because I knew I wouldn’t be going back to him.  I don’t regret the days we shared although it pains me to think of him, worrying about how he’s faring and wondering if I did leave a small piece of me behind. 

 

 

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