Stranger in my house

It's weird. I used to hate sleeping next to people, and for the most part I still do. If I woke up with after a bringing a guy back home I would be pissed if he was still in my bed in the morning. Same as if I went back to someone else's house at night I would come back home. Yet during the time that I was with H I liked sleeping next to him. I hate cuddling, yet I would fall asleep with my head on his chest, and if I moved away from him he would grab a hold of me and in his sleep ask me where I was going, and it felt good. This weekend I spent the night with A. Being with him is always a pleasure, and the sex gets better with just about every time. By now he knows what I like and he likes it as well. It's hard, and rough, and dirty, and afterwards we just fell asleep on top of the covers. Then something unusual happened, I was gently woken up by him pulling a blanket over the both of us. It wasn't the fact that he got a blanket for us, that was normal and expected, it was a bit chilly, what was new was the tenderness that he had done it with. Throughout the night he would spoon with me, and in the morning the look in his eyes was an adoring one. He was sweet, like really sweet, like kiss you on the forehead kind of sweet, though I do not remember him doing so. When I caught him staring at me for a bit after we had sex again I asked him what he was thinking and he said that my hair is so soft and he now understand how Rumpelstiltskin could have thought that one can turn blonde hair into gold. We went out for breakfast before he took me home.

Now it's not that I want A to fall in love with me, I mean if he did decide to pursue me I would not object, but I had tried to seduce him before and it backfired on me so I have given up on anything serious with the man. It was the sensation of being with someone that cares, that wants you there, that wants you period. I have played the cold lonely bitch for a long time, and I still do. I don't have a problem with it, or at least it does not come up in my head, at least not until I get a glimpse of the other side, at which time I once again become nostalgic. Maybe nostalgic is not the right word, not like I have been in a sweet, caring relationship ever before. Well maybe other then H, he did care and he did love me, and I him.

Sucks, I started out this post feeling lovely, I am ending it feeling lonely. Aaliyah is probably not helping.