Westley has always known Claire. She's always been a constant in his life, whether it be as his babysitter, his secret Santa, as his pretend-girlfriend, his confident, as the person he could always rely on.
But she's also always been the girl he lov...
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I'm thirty one and I want Claire all the time.
I guess it's like my body is trying to make up for years of depravation.
Claire often says I should have seen her naked body when she was twenty. We never would be able to leave the bedroom.
I tell her her forty two years old body could not possibly be more perfect and that if I had things my way I would be taking a two week vacation, not to go somewhere fancy, but just to stay in bed with her all the time.
Dating Claire isn't that much different than how we acted before. It's really all the same except that now we get to see each other naked and we have a lot more sleepovers.
We're always staying at each other's places so we decide to move in together.
Claire likes my apartment and I prefer hers. She says my room his bigger and can hold my more comfortable bed, I'm closer to the metro station, and I have a washing machine and dishwasher. I say her place smells like her and her decoration is nicer, she has a better view, and her kitchen is bigger.
She tells me the Claire smell and decorations come with her and that as long as I'm in the room, no one cares about the view and that my counters are way better to have sex on.
We try that theory out. She's right. We end up staying in my apartment.
I still can't believe it, every morning when I wake up and I look beside me and she's there. I find myself waking up before her so I can just look at her, running my hand through her hair, hugging her against me. Some mornings I find her doing exactly the same thing, so I don't feel too much like a creep. I think both of us are still in awe that this is real, it's not a dream and we're really together. I'll never ever take it for granted.
One evening Claire comes back from handing in one of her assignments and tells me to ask for two weeks off. I ask why. She wiggles her eyebrows.
For two weeks we stay hidden in bed in our apartment.
I don't think I understood the term physical exhaustion before that.
