50 shades of gray hair

i stood, and waited at the corner for the light to change.

there he was, at the diner across the street, sitting at a small table by the window.
an edward hopper kinda moment.
he was reading the menu.
i was struck by his profile.

i watched as he read the menu carefully, his index finger going up and down the list of breakfast items.
i watched him nodding.
he had made a choice.
he closed the menu.
i watched as the young, lanky waiter came over, and took his order.
i watched as he handed the young, lanky waiter his menu.
the waiter smiled. a sweet smile.
the kind of smile that is filled with hope for a more generous tip at the end of the meal.
i watched the waiter walk away.

i watched as he snapped opened the new york times – folding it, creasing it – and then began reading the news on the front page.
i watched as he took a deep breath, exhaling, and then he shook his head in disgust at what he was reading.
bad news.
too much bad news.

i watched as the waiter brought his coffee, along with a small glass of milk.
he didn’t look up at the waiter, he was too engrossed in what he was reading.
i watched as he poured some milk into the coffee without ever taking his eyes off the paper.
he took a sip.

the light changed.

i started crossing the street, and as if on cue:
he looked up from the bad news, and turned toward me.
he took a sip of coffee, and offered me a smile.
a sexy smile.
he looked me up and down, checking me out. he winked.
the kind of wink that says: i like your ass. be mine.

he could’ve had me right then and there, but i saved all of that for later.

after all these years my ken fills me to the brim.
my heart still melts.

so, here’s to love.
hot sexy middle-aged love.

Category: Uncategorized 5 comments »

5 Responses to “50 shades of gray hair”

Boomer
February 4th, 2013 at 7:27 pm
Amy,
We are where we are now because of where we have been.

You found Ken when you were ready to give yourself a healthy relationship; when you had healed yourself.
But it took work, it took pain, and it took time.

Having had a narcissistic mother, I understand some of what a daughter needs to learn to survive; that it is not about you, the daughter. The secret is kept well by the mother. And the conflicts almost always happen when no one else is around.
Some simply cannot come to terms with their role as it was required by the mother.
Sounds like you did ok, kiddo.
Dawn Downey
February 5th, 2013 at 4:05 pm
Thanks for this happy ending to a true story. I didn’t see it coming, and I love it.
Reticula
February 5th, 2013 at 10:37 pm
What a great tribute to your beloved. Gives me hope.
Debbie
March 10th, 2013 at 3:03 pm
Awww Amy … this is what I call “having a burst of love”. I’ll tell Danny that sometimes … I’ll call him up because I’ve been thinking about something he did or said and just get a burst of love for him.

Ken + Amy = True Love LOL!!!

xoxo
Deb
Christen
August 18th, 2014 at 8:19 am
My blog post web page (Christen)