He's thinner. It shows on his face.
He's let his hair grow – longer than I've ever seen it.
His beard, too. He officially has a beard now. Not a temporary, can't-be-bothered-to-shave beard.
Last time, I saw him, that first glimpse was freaky because of how much he's changed.
The rooms didn't have numbers in the motel where I was staying. When he arrived, he had trouble finding the room on the instructions he got at the reception. And no, they don't send anyone up to lead you to your room or help you with your luggage. They let you find your own way.
So I went out onto the corridor to wait for him. Saw him coming up the stairs. We'd been talking on our cells while I tried to lead him to me. When he saw me, he hung up and stuffed his cell in the pocket of his coat.
I'd been in mid-sentence.
Trivial but K never hangs up on me. And he always lets me finish. I didn't know how to take it. Was he mad at me for making him come? For worrying him? Or was it just that he couldn't see the point of talking on the phone when we were face to face?
It made me nervous. I stood there & watched him climb up two flights of stair, with no idea what to say or do when he finally reached me. So I didn't do anything. I just stood there staring at him, letting him take the lead I guess.
He said hi, kissed me – once on the mouth and once on each cheek. No hugging. Minimal body contact. So he WAS angry.
I wanted to scream and tell him he had no right to be angry with me. Or cry and ask if he wasn't at least glad to see me. Or something.
Then he was taking off his coat. Without thinking, I held out my hand for it. Force of habit – taking care of his clothes, that is. When he handed it to me, two things immediately became apparent. One, I didn't recognize the coat. Two, it smelled of smoke.
It didn't stop there either. He's been drinking, too. I could smell it on his breath.
Funny, I used to say I'd never get involved with someone who drinks, that I couldn't bear to kiss someone with alcohol breath. I do hate that smell.
Now I know it's going to take a lot more than that to make me not want to kiss him every chance I get.
Especially when he comes to me looking like he's been through hell. And especially when there's so little time.
The trouble with long-distance is that things happen & people change. And if you're separated long enough, you risk becoming strangers to each other.
I wonder if I seemed so different to him too?
Will ask him.