A few times in my life I’ve begun to wonder if there is any meaning to things. Because without meaning, everything begins to feel so lost. Certainly, there have been times when I’ve felt there hasn’t been any, and so I’ve started to feel so lost, and alone. Dave was always the one who would be there and tell me that everything would be okay. Either that, or he would at least make it feel like things weren’t as bad as they seemed. For a while, I felt a strange attraction to him. Good natured people seem to find me and I latch on to them, one after another. Hearts are confused things and coupled with a troubled mind, they can often make foolish decisions. I often imagined what it would be like, the two of us together.
“Just close your eyes, and don’t think about anything” he would whisper. Kind hands and his warm heart were all I could feel. Little by little, I would feel everything drift away, his warmth replacing it all. My mind would wander to thoughts of us, hands and bodies intertwined. Nothing but him.
Over a period, I think that he began to realise how I felt. People can only pretend to ignore what is in front of them for so long. Quite some time passed before he could no longer ignore what it was we were falling into. Realisation is the end of ignorance, and I think that ignorance is always better. Sometimes he would look at me in such a way that I began to think that maybe he felt the same, but somehow I knew that something was stopping him. Touches became more edged, hands would be withdrawn quickly and nervously. Under his kind exterior, his fear betrayed him. Visits became shorter.
Without him, I began to feel sad again. Xenobiotics have always been a cure for me, but something was different. Yearning was replaced by fantasy, and I slid deeper into it, like a newer and stronger drug. Zonked out on the sofa, I find myself back in his arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment