Anticipation

Well, New Year’s Eve is coming, and naturally it has me thinking about balloons. Now, if you expect me to write of a glorious orgy involving hundreds of balloons and steamy, noisy, explosive sex, well, I might just do that. In a work of fiction. The reality is that we’ll be home, and the kids will be home, too, and so at best there will be some quiet balloon cuddling in our bedroom late at night.

And with that prospect ahead, the anticipation is driving me wild. Because it’s the reality, not the fantasy, that I really look forward to. The simple things that my wife allows me to share with her, rather than the flights of fancy that my writer’s imagination can come up with, get my juices flowing, propel me through the holiday season, and make me feel as giddy as I did as a young fetishist contemplating my first balloon encounter. Being married to the right woman can do that to you.

On the other hand, now that I’m thinking about those flights of fancy, maybe I should be making a story out of that.

I’ll consider that idea. After New Year’s Eve. Because right now I would rather relish my real life.