Your Little Weekend Away Day!

The closest you ever came to love was the three-star hotel birthday weekend you spent with your friend's wife. You bought the room on Priceline and you'd intended to invite everyone over to trash the place in celebration of your thirtieth. But when you joked to Lydia over email about you and her keeping it to yourselves, she asked for the room number.

After the first sex, she said things with her and Mark (your buddy) were over and that you shouldn't feel guilty. Mark was out in LA, getting things ready for Lydia to follow him out there. Lydia told you she wasn't going to go. After the second sex (in the shower) she wanted booze so you went out and got it. When you got back, you were surprised to see her still there. But she was crying. You didn't try to comfort her, you just poured two glasses from the bottle and waited for her to drink her tears down. Then you had sex and fell asleep.

The next day, Saturday, you woke up and had breakfast and some sex. Then you bought The Bourne Identity on the hotel Pay Per View and watched it. After the Bourne Identity, you started drinking again, both of you. You had really, really good sex at 3 o'clock that day. Her back was flat up against the headboard for a good hunk of it. It was aces. By 7 o'clock, you both wanted out, but instead you took a bath together. You held her in your arms, thinking about your Mom and Dad. She lay against you, thinking whatever she was thinking. By ten o'clock you were both good and drunk. For around forty minutes she was hysterical, laughing and crying. You ordered a pizza from room service so you'd have enough food in the two of you to sleep through the night.

The next morning, Sunday, you woke up early and tried to order porn on the pay-per-view, but the porn option was unavailable. You assumed it was because it was Sunday or something. That bummed you out. You'd been trying all weekend to get up the nerve to suggest the two of you watching porn while fucking, then when you woke up that Sunday you figured fuck it, I'll just turn on the porn and see what she does. But there wasn't any porn to be had so you just had quiet, sleepy sex then lay around for an hour or so. You went in and took a shower by yourself and when you came out, she was gone. There were several goodbye parties for Mark and Lydia over the next couple months and you avoided them all. You haven't spoken to Lydia since. Mark's emailed you once or twice and you've been cordial.

Today's the two-year-seven-month-and-thirteen-day anniversary of that last morning in your hotel room together. Write Lydia a postcard wishing her a happy two-year-seven-month-and-thirteen-day anniversary and ask her if she had a nice time with you.

Happy Your Little Weekend Away Day!