You Feel Like a Dream (18+)

So Long Farewell

   I listened to the song over and over and over again. Flipping through magazines filled with faces of nobodies to me, he never stopped crossing my mind. This was not like me. I had to gain composer and quickly. I not only took some time to respond, but I went as far as to change my message settings. I don't know why I did, I just did. I didn't want him to know I was reading his message as soon as I received them. I wanted him to think I was too busy. But this is what I stayed away from in relationships, was playing games. Now, I am playing games all over a song as evening fell upon 7 pm. Martone knocked on my door softly. " Harlow, my darling, may I come in?" He asks, with the door ajar slightly.

"I don't want to be a bother; I just want to speak with you, that is if you are up for talking. " He is so kind; he is beyond compassionate and within my life. He has been my best friend, even before we became live-in lovers. "Yes, of course, please come in," I reply, sitting on the chair, the same chair that Tom had his way with me on just a few short hours ago. I could still smell his sex in my bedroom; I planned on telling Bea she was not to remove my bed linens just yet. I was not ready yet to part with what I had left of him, his scent. A scent so unique, so sensual, my precious pearl is becoming moist. Thinking about him, and his scent, him being inside me. All of me.

I sigh deeply as I open my oriental pearl and jade black carved cigarette box. A gift from a lover I had in Tokyo. She was lovely; she was a French girl lost in Japan; I helped her find her way. Although our ways went separately, I do still so enjoy reminiscing about that time in my life. There was an exhibit she and I went to for an artist that I immediately fell in love with his work; she tracked him down and had him make this splendid tobacco box for me. Shame really, I left to come back to New York when she was headed to St. Petersburg, Russia, for a photoshoot. It would have been much too cold for me.

  We left on I wouldn't say fantastic terms, but I had to be honest in telling her; it wasn't fulling to me as a woman to be lovers with another woman. As I grew to love her, she was stunning; friends called us lipstick lovers. She wore black, and I wore red. But I was always missing something. I don't think it was just her; I had been with other women I could never connect with spiritually. Though come to think of it, I have never associated with someone on almost every level as I did with Tom. That part of a relationship spiritually was so vital to me to find. Here I had, and now he is gone. I can't begin to wrap my head around the past few weeks. I have done nothing but pleasure myself with this sexy movie star that I had become kind of a fan babe.  He was not at all what I had expected; he was more down to earth than most people I know. I understand how easy it is to fall in love with someone who seems so bad and so wrong. Though he is so fucking good and so right.

  You ask, then what the fuck am I doing in New York City? While this man is across oceans and ponds. I have no clue how to answer it other than I have crucial matters to take up with. I will not give this right now up for a man. Tom Hardy or not, As he has shown me he is special. For me, anyone would have to be very, very special for me to give up anything I have worked so God Dam hard for. As I must be honest, he's pretty spectacular in every sense of the word. But here is where I belong at this moment, and there is where he belongs. 

  Martone opens the door and hands me a perfect glass of aerated Bordeaux, that we brought back from our last fashion week in Paris. I loathe sulfates, and we found a lovely vineyard that we snuck several, and several bottles of back home. They are so kind every year for the Christmas Holiday; they send us some of their finest. Taking it from his hand, he kisses my forehead. Walking over to sit in the opposite armchair, with his glass in hand, he reaches for a cigarette from the shimmering ivory box. Inhaled deeply as he lights it, blowing smoking around him as it floated out the open French doors. " Tell me, my love, how do you feel since your lover left? " He asks with a gentle, sincere tone. " Awful Martone, just awful. My stomach pains me, as does my head, and well, my heart feels broken in two." I reply, sipping from the wine glass, cigarette in the other hand. " Do you feel anxious, my darling? Drink and take one of your sedatives. I don't want you going into a depression. I'm saddened deeply. When I saw him leave this morning, I was painting and still awake. I had this awful feeling that you were not prepared to handle this as, well, you usually do, brush it off. Act as if nothing had affected you. Please do not do this, my love, this will all work out the way it is meant to. All I want is for you to be happy, nothing else in this world, but your happiness is my concern." " I love you, Martone, you must know that," I say, holding back tears. " I know you do my darling, but you love him; differently, I understand, I do. Whatever I can do to help you, my love, I shall. We always in the back of our minds, knew what we had wouldn't last forever. The first time I proposed to you, and the second then the third. I became hopeless. You would ever become just mine, my wife. I will forever cherish these years we have spent together, but I do think it is time you go after what it is you truly want. Without me, and Loren in the picture. Where will you go for the Holiday this year? I surmise you won't be joining my family in Barcelona, and Loren is going to The Canary Islands with his family. He is still young, yet; he does not understand the heart wants what it wants. I am right along there with him. But we both agreed I would be the one to talk to you." " I don't know where I will go; I do have to meet with my client the next day after Christmas, so it isn't like I could go anywhere anyway. I think being alone is what I need. Perhaps I will go to see my family if I feel up to the drama. We spoke for a while longer; he offered to make me something to eat or take me out if I felt up to it. All I wanted to do was wallow, wallow for being a selfish cunt. I hugged and kissed Martone. "Please, my love, whatever you need, I am here for you." He said, grabbing my waist with his hand. His lips pressed to my earlobe. " I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you always. I respect you as a woman, as my lover, most importantly, my best friend. I want Tom to feel and be all of these for you. If he isn't, I will be waiting." He whispered so softly in my ear, still keeping me close to him. He rested his head on my shoulder, nuzzling his face into my neck. " Can I make love you once more, my darling?" He asked as he lifted his face, so our eyes met. "No, my love," I said without hesitation. "It wouldn't be making love back to you, and that wouldn't be fair to you." With a sighed breath, I moaned. He smiled, gently removed his hands from my waist, and walking slowly and confidently down the long hallway to his studio. I stood and watched him because I knew it would probably be the last time I did. I was sad about it, but not as miserable as I was not speaking to Tom yet. I missed his sexy voice. I had a plan for FaceTime, something very erotic, so that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about me.

I headed down to the coffee bar in the small walk-in kitchenette outside the bedroom to grab a cup of coffee. I was waiting for Tom's signal when he was calling or engaging in FaceTime. So I sat waiting like a silly girl drinking wine and coffee and looking at my phone to see if it was charged or working, thinking back to if I paid the bill and it wasn't shut off. I wanted craving and yearning from all parts of my body for Tom. Just the thought of his voice, or his smile with his crooked teeth, I got moist. I was feeling withdrawals from his skin, touching mine, hearing the tones in his voice when he called me his pet names. Or when his face was buried so deep in my pussy, that he would make me have multiple orgasms more than several times in a day and nights time. Oh, his cock, I made sure I had it memorized as I could picture him with his legs spread open. Me leaning in to put his thickness into my mouth, how excited he gets. I could have an orgasm just thinking about it now. But the phone wasn't ringing, and back to anxiousness, I was feeling.

Since I hadn't responded to his text from earlier, I finally did. Hoping it would prompt him to call me. With no words, just a link... I waited and waited, but as the clock struck 4:22 am, I fell into bed with this song playing on repeat, repeat, repeat as tears streamed down my face.