I am reading this wonderful book right now entitled Distant Lover written by Gloria Mallette. I'm only half way through it but so far so good. The story is centered around a married couple who are having problems and on the brink of divorce. The husband had an affair and the wife couldn't forgive him. The wife finds herself fantasizing constantly about her high school sweetheart -- her first love. He moved away after high school and they lost touch. Twenty years pass and he ends up back in the town where they grew up. I think they may hook up!

This of course makes for a great story but we all know that a lot happens in twenty years. If they do hook up I can guarantee that the man she sees today is not the boy she loved back in high school. I can't wait to see what happens.

This novel got me to thinking about my own distant lover. He lives many states away and it's been four years since we were last together although we speak on a regular basis. He is the inspiration for some of my best poetry. I have had a few fleeting fantasies of making this a more permanent situation but then I come to my senses and realize that it could never be. If we had to be in each other's presence on a regular basis we could probably kill each other.

We love each other just the same. My distant lover is intelligent and responsible. Funny and sexy. Fine as hell and the mere sound of his voice can bring me out of the deepest of depressions. We knew each other for almost ten years before we actually ... well knew each other. When we first met I thought he was an annoying child (he's seven years my junior) that I just wanted to pat on the head and send on his way. Little did I know that ten years later he would be the one to give me the strength that I needed when I was at my lowest point.

Our first encounter was very spur of the moment. I mentioned that I was going to be traveling to a certain state for a weekend conference. Coincidentally, (or not) he would be in the same state -- different city. He changed his plans and asked if he could meet me. At that time, I thought there would be no harm in hooking up with an old friend that I hadn't seen in years. We could have dinner and talk over old times. I swear to you, I had no ulterior motive and I didn't think he did either. I didn't even realize that I was attracted to him.

I arrived first and I realized after I got out of the shower and was doing my hair and makeup that I was nervous. When he showed up we smiled at each other easily and hugged at the door. We talked and laughed but I was still feeling nervous. We left the hotel and went to dinner and it felt as though my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. He was thoroughly enjoying my discomfort and when the waitress asked if we would be having dessert he just smiled, winked and said that he would be -- later at the hotel. I did not find that amusing. I told him to stop playing with me. His reply was, "I'm not playing." Gulp.

We get back to the room and he asks me if I can change a dollar so he can get a soda from the machine. I told him I didn't have any change but the machine probably took dollar bills. He nodded his head, grabbed the ice bucket and walked out the door. He came back without a soda and a full ice bucket. He said he changed his mind. Anyway, I'm very nervous at this point and I can't keep still. He decides this is the right moment to kiss me. It was one of those kisses that a woman never forgets. It was gentle with just enough force. It was a kiss with the promise of much more to come. Afterward, he sat down on the bed and said, "Man! I just kissed chele. I can't wait to get home so I can call you and tell you all about it."

Reminding me of our friendship. A friendship that is still intact. A friendship that I rely on but I don't take advantage of. It would be so easy to turn him into the 'fall guy' whenever I have relationship problems but that wouldn't be fair. We are friends first and lovers second. And even if we never make love again I know that we will always be the best of friends. We were only together one other time after that night. At a bed and breakfast in the art district with a veiw of the river. That time I wasn't nervous.

Oh yeah, if you are wondering about the full ice bucket ... he made very good use of it that night. I never saw it coming.