I used to write a lot. Then I stopped because I felt I am getting too dark and depressed. I started again on a more positive note and somehow what I write is not about revealing anymore, but about understanding.
Above all this, what I always wanted to do, was to write a book. But man, I can’t write a proper dialogue. While you find elaborate dialogues in books, mine sound like “potato, tomato”.
Below there’s a draft I wrote, maybe 2 years ago, an attempt to 50 Shades of Gabriela :)))
“Make me remember it. Nothing too big or too romantic but just make a memory out of it. It will help me pass some bad times…”
He hugs her from behind, all full of lather and she feels his muscular body moulding against hers.
She was taking a shower and while shampooing her hair, lost in thoughts, she didn’t even notice him in the bathroom. He then opened the shower cabin door and started washing his body right next to her. His hands came to reach her shoulders and pulled her out of her thoughts. His embrace was firm but tender. He wasn’t showing much of his feelings; actually at all, but he had moments when his actions were so loud that words wouldn’t be as clear.
His hands went up her neckline and then slowly down her arms. He then measured her waist and slowly but surely found the way down to her navel. He’s not a patient man and…
She dries her hair pensively with a towel while he’s on the sofa watching tv. She sees him in the mirror. Yeah, in time everything will be fine. He will be fine…
She sits on the sofa next to him and he doesn’t even bother to move his gigantic body. He knows she’ll find a place next to him. She’ll squeeze somewhere next to his chest or under his lazy arm. She looks at him and he throws a quick glance back at her with some sort of smile in his eyes.
“What?” he says, trying to seem insecure, pretending he’s shy as a schoolgirl when somebody stares a bit longer. As if he doesn’t know he’s a handsome man… And all the women out there daydreaming every time they see him and yet he’s there on the sofa with her.
“So what do you think?” she asks. He looks at her and smiles again. “Why don’t you sleep. It’s late and you have to wake up early” he says.
That’s all she will get for now. She knows. Later on, when he’ll be done browsing the internet or watching whatever tv channel he’ll slowly come to bed next to her, hugging her under the cover. That hug means he’s fine where he is. He can’t really show affection.
When she’ll wake up, snoozing the alarm a thousand times, he’ll open his eyes and with a grumpy face he’ll mumble something. He’ll try to fall back asleep but eventually he’ll wake up, take his phone and start scrolling. Sometimes he’ll watch her, a bit undercover, how she gets dresses and how she moves around the place getting ready for work.
“Good night” she says and she can’t decide if she should give him a kiss or not. She tries to make a move and he pretends that nothing happened. She aims for the lips but settles for the cheek. He turns. He’s not hostile. He gives her a childish kiss. He smiles with his eyes again.
She goes to bed and she thinks about this for a while. Her heart is heavy somehow, but she knows he agreed to it. He’ll come to bed later…