Tangled...

...in crisp, white hotel linens, I shrug and yawn away the remnants of last night's wine. In the millisecond it takes to gather my bearings...there is his hand, pushing away the tangled mess of hair from my eyes and pulling me closer. There you are Boy...

Here we are...memories of the night resurface and I press my face into his back, breathing him in...arms and legs migrating to familiar places, nearly impossible to tell where he ends and I begin. The city lies at the foot of our king-sized bed...snow-capped bridges and water for days. We pull up the covers and relive the night...


My Christmas gift to Boy this year was a night on the town. And I didn't want it to be just any night, but a memorable one. One, where years later you are still saying...now that was a good night. He deserves it. His generosity continues to humble me and I just wanted to say...thank you...I am truly the luckiest. So...

...the bellhop swung open the door, revealing a view that knocked the breath from my chest. Two walls of windows, chilled from the swirl of winter...and the city beyond. A marvel. We pressed our noses to the glass, briefly obscuring the view of the ballpark with our breath...wiping it clean to reveal barges and boats and ambulances blaring. Knees on the ledge...can you get higher? What do you see?! Like kids on Christmas morning, we jumped on the bed and chuckled at the people scampering about in the freezing cold. We poured the first glass of wine and toasted to us. I love you. Yep. Pretty much forever. We chatted and snacked and rested and looked at each other...and then back to the windows again.  What a view. We might have kissed a few hundred times.

At some point we tugged on jeans and pushed feet into boots. Sprayed perfume and brushed hair. Who has the car keys and room keys and how do I look? Gorgeous. Look at you. Take my hand...HURRY UP!...the wine-tasting is upon us...

...behind a non-descript city door lay a small local winery, offering cheap tastings and free stories. An eclectic mix of Pittsburghers mingle amongst the wine wares...an oenophile's dream. The warehouse-type atmosphere is chilly, yet surprisingly comforting. Boy and I taste and talk...cheeks growing rosier by the glass. Laughs get louder and longer as we huddle closer, inspecting the odd knick-knacks on the shelves. We are social, but not overly so. This night is just for us. The final tasting reminds us of our dinner reservations and we hustle into coats and out into the frigid night air...

...and into the warmth of the last leg of the night. It's all fireplaces and fur coats. Low, close conversations and lights so dim that you have to hold the menu a heartbeat away from your face. The wine has taken hold and we're all smiles, grinning wide for our waiter who is also a sommelier. He tells us he is wearing his daughter's headband to hold back his long locks, and we can't help but concentrate on the teeth that aren't quite where God intended. So weird. But so good at the same time. We fill our bellies with scallops and shrimp and tuna and wine...wine...wine...until we fall apart in one glorious peanut butter fudge finale. Smacking our lips and licking our fingers, we laugh like idiots...especially when the bill arrives. Who cares...I pretty much love you forever...

Hustling into coats one last time we head back...to frost those windowpanes one last time...and wake...tangled...in each other.