The Polaroid

The Polaroid

I Just played catch up with a picture of you and me

Twenty-two year old boy with a bright future. Nothing is going to stop you from working with Congress one day.

Nineteen year-old girl prodigy from the other side of the tracks. I have no idea what I want. I am too idealistic for my own good.

We are holding each other and you stare in to my eyes.

You hold me in such a firm way, but there is a gap between us the size of Mount Rushmore.

I have nothing on but my socks “Take them off,” You say.

“No. My feet are cold.” You start to laugh and you reach for my foot to grab my sock.

“Take. Them. Off.” He commands.

I breath so hard I’m starting to pant. I always loved it when he told me what to do. It drove me crazy in the best way possible. He loved when I questioned him.

“Why?” I sexily whisper in his ear.

You move toward the edge of the bed and rip them off of me. “Because it’s lazy. ”

Before I can say anything else, you take my sock off and stuff them in to my mouth. I am not disgusted. I am incredibly turned on. You proceed to tell me to get on all fours. You tie me up and start to rip my panties off me. Instead you leave them on. You come up from behind me and say, “Do you want it?” I feverishly nod my my head yes. You stick your cock right next to my soaking wet panties. You take the sock out of my mouth. “Tell me you want it.” I’m panting so hard I’m trembling. “Tell. Me. You. Want. It.” You say sternly. “I want it!” I manage to scream. You rip my panties off, and we proceed to have sex for close to four hours.

Afterwards we lay there and it’s so cold I say, “So can I put my socks back on or not?”

We both start laughing and I pick up my Polaroid Camera. You found it on a day trip to Paducah. We found it at a Vintage shop that sold old Election buttons from every Presidential Campaign. I buy you a Robert Kennedy Button. After all, he is your hero. You watch me as I eye a vintage Polaroid Camera. You buy it for me. “Only if you promise we have some fun with this later!” You say.

We lay in each others arms. You hold me and smile and you let me take another Polaroid of us. I look at the Polaroid. “Do you think your mom would like me?” You don’t respond. You are about to leave for a job. I won’t hear from you again for another two years.

Two whole years I wait. You call me when you find out I’m engaged. I listen to your voice mails “Hey Mae! I really need to talk to you!” After about the 7th voice mail I answer.

“Hello beautiful!” He says so cocky, I never really liked him when he was cocky.

“It’s too late,” I say. “You had two years to call me. To let me know if you’re okay. I didn’t think you were coming back! I was starting to wonder if I had made you up in my head! The only proof I have that you actually existed is a box of polaroids! And that’s all you will ever be to me! You are a polaroid!”

I hang up and take a look at my future husband. I smile and think of how he holds me so tight. There are no gaps between us when he holds me. When I ask him if his mom would like me he responds, “Well, she passed away when I was 15. But my Dad will.” He lets me sleep naked, but with my socks on.

You call me again last week to congratulate me on my baby. I don’t answer. I play catch up with a polaroid of you and me. Behind your cocky smile sat broken promises of a life that you were never meant to have with me.

So, I sat the polaroids on fire. You always loved to dream, but you were never ready to wake up.