I want to wake up cuddled against him, feeling his warm breath on the back of my neck. I want to wriggle around until I face him, afraid that my breath is offensive, but not be allowed to free myself until he has thoroughly kissed me awake. I want to wake up to coffee and homemade blueberry muffins out on the deck, laughing and talking with him and my family and friends.
I want to run down to the beach and swim and surf. I want to lie in the hot sand next to him, his hand on my belly as we doze in the sunshine. I want to take the trolly into town for lunch, holding hands with him as we walk down the street. I want to go into the tourist shops and buy silly tee shirts and puka shell necklaces. I want to walk back home along the shore, stopping at the gay section of the beach where we can kiss and play with no fear of recrimination.
I want sit on the deck as the sun sets behind us, writing in my blog while he and mum prepare dinner. I want to hear them talking, realising that they are learning to love and respect each other. I want to see our neighbours crowding around our dinner table knowing that they accept my relationship with him. I want to get a little bit drunk on good red wine and play footsies with him under the table.
I want to cuddle on the couch with him watching an old movie on television as the rain patters on the deck outside. I want him to feed me chocolate and marshmallows and suck on his fingers as he places each morsel in my mouth
I want to go up to my room and climb into bed with him. I want to put my head on his shoulder and talk about the day until our desire overtakes us then I want him to tilt my face up to his and kiss me. I want to make love to him, passionate, yet giggling, because we have to be discreet in such a full house. I want to cuddle up to him, spent and happy from our day together. I want to fall asleep in his arms, safe from all of the harm that is in the world.
I want him to come back. I don’t want this summer to end.