Change

He's changed.‎

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.‎

More changes. ‎

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.‎