Itching

It was unexpected.

But all the good things are.

We are at this table in the park.

Yes, it is beautiful.

Yes, there is a Chess board in between this man and I on our first date.

Is this a comment on “love as warfare?” Is all fair in love and war after all?

He is handsome. Very polite. Doesn’t smile much, but he doesn’t seem the least bit mean. Who am I dealing with?

She hasn’t blinked yet.

I am not sure if I am making this up, but there seems to be a great deal going on behind those eyes of hers.

Combat changed me and I know it. People always tell me I look settled and calm, but I am always keeping the lid on a desire to just run away.

Not again.

It itches – I HATE WHEN IT ITCHES.

If she sees this prosthetic when I reach down to scratch this leg that is no longer here – I am huts giving in.

I will run and run and run and run….