For @pedeka who always needs jewels..
I streaked my hand across the steam that fogged the mirror, looking at myself, honestly. Gods, I am; I am alive, bring my hand to my throat, my heartbeat was strong; alive, god yes, I am alive, for now.
Soul searching time, why am I being so very panicky? I am alive, heart beating proud. So, then what is the problem? Why can’t I just enjoy the moment; be alive? Why the cold sweats? He now knows I am dying, he knows that I am temperary at best. I never did want to be that Camus lover, dead in the salad days; haunting the other for eternity, but that shouldn’t preclude me from the better aspects of life. Hope began taunting; you don’t actually think someone like him, that beautiful god king, would lament losing someone like you for even a moment? I shot myself a dirty look in the mirror, shut up.
I have been very clear with my expectations, I have been honest and still this lilylivered reaction. What kind of major malfunction is this?
Why do I never get an answer, when I’m knocking at the door?
Maybe it is because the truth is too hard to swallow.
No I will the answer to never come?
Is this, in fact, what the war for love is for?
No just another chance to fail.
Who really is counting? Who really cares?
Honey, as I said… this just is.
Yes, but is this romance? Is it love?
Jesus, why am I asking such stupid questions? Just stop it stupid, stop thinking, stop being rabbity; rhetoric is the downfall of the foolish; stop, just let it flow, let what will happen, happen; don’t be a chicken-shit, stop running, let this experience live. Seriously, this couldnt have been laid out more perfect, remember what you wrote once upon a time; he is the walking talking archetype of what was written.
The man knows Oscar, he quotes things from the Wilde, and Oscar did say the very essence of romance is uncertainty.
The gods know that if this was anything, this is was vague, unfamiliar, and damn uncertain.
Yes, this is risky, but all the best things are.
I know the uncertainty in this case is not the usual who or how or how long; it is the simple question is just how much it will hurt… and if anything was certain, that answer is easy: A LOT!
But it has, it already did, as he walked away, lord just being this far from him, does… it does.
Really, dummy, you know that the never tried, the what if’s, the unresolved coulda’s, the shoulda’s, the undone regrets they always hurt the very worst, those ambiguous ifs.
So, shut up, stop whining and let it flow, don’t direct, don’t chicken out, just let it flow. Be like water.
I ruffed my hair drying it, well a little bit; I examined my face in the mirror, not horrible, the dark body bags under my eyes from crying couldn’t be helped, using my fingers to ‘style’ my hair, pinching health into my cheeks. I ran two fingers along my lightly kiss swollen lips, I giggled; boy, that was fun, confirming that yes, I loved kissing and damn he was good at it; so much better than even memory.
I had to admit I didn’t look bad; now the time to hesitate is through, for the first time in my life I resolve to be Wilde, to be Wildely feminine; I tied the sash of the robe, flipped my hair and walked out.
There he was lounging in a matching robe, diagnally across the large bed; lush bare legs stretched out in front of him, the heavenly puff of the duvet made him look like an overgrown cherub on a fluffy cumulus cloud, still… reading my journal, caressing the pages.
“Oh me, oh my, but you strike a pretty picture, not my usual fare coming out of the shower, I’ll take it; so, you’re still not bored of reading my whimsy’s?”
He laughed rolling to a sitting position, “Honey, to be grotesquely honest, I doubt that I could ever; I am in a way, addicted to your mind, how you think; it’s alluring to me, like a sirens song.” He chuckled, “now, I need to know, are you okay?” His earnest face so endearing.
I shrugged, trying to look uneffected, browsing the milquetoast art on the walls, horrid pottery barn fare, “yeah, fine,” keeping my voice light, looking anywhere, but his face.
He sighed, “what a load of crap,"I heard him moving, I refused to look. "Come on,” I jumped startled, his voice just behind my ear, “you can’t give me that, honey, look at me,” I complied with a roll of my eyes, “are you okay?” I nodded, “Honesty.” I shrugged, so he doubled down, “I know you were crying, I heard your sighing sniffles, so, I ask, are you okay?”
I turned to stand in front of him, shoulders straight, arms crossed, plastic smile in place, “I am fine.” He gave me that demanding galled look that screamed liar, “yes, okay, I cried, that’s done, I am good now.”
He slowly stood, pulling my hands into his, I hadn’t realized before that he was so deliciously much taller than me. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I did not lie, you were so delicious, and so alive.” He put his arms around me in a loose hug. “kissing you, it had been so tempting for so long, you tantalize just by breathing, so after it felt so perfect, natural…” his hug tightened, “I need to ask, I have to know, why were you crying? Please trust me enough to tell me.”
I sucked a breath in through my nose, slowly letting it out, burying my face in the pile of robe covering his chest. “Honestly, for very stupid reasons, mostly self doubt;” stupid don’t chicken out now… just let it flow, “even as a kid, I had never really cared about impressing others, suddenly with you… I assessed myself as not good enough,” I sucked in a quick breath, “if you spend long enough dying, enough people step away because it is too painful for them to watch, enough people caring at a distance, shaking hands with you using salad tongs,” he laughed, that rumble against my cheek heavenly, “you begin believing that, they are right, that you are this depressing weight, that it is all you deserve.” I held him tighter, hiding my face as he was trying to pull back and look at me. “Your kiss caused my heart to beat, your kind words, caused me to feel, and then I felt unworthy, I have been dying almost as long as I have been alive, it is hard for me to believe your sincerity.” I tripped over myself to reassure him, “I believe, or at the very least I want to believe, with all that is holy, that you are.” I gave a nervous titter.
He pulled away, not letting me hide away any longer, he looked so earnest. He pulled me to sit near him on the bed. He ran his hands through my lightly damp hair, pushing it away to reveal my face. He kissed my forehead, thrilling me to my core. “I am sincere, I had wanted that kiss since I sauntered up to you as you were settling in. I really want to do it again. Talking with you, laughing, I was not even exaggerating when I told Opie that it was magic.”
I shivered, “There are no certainty in this world, no assurances, but to be horribly honest, I wanted your kiss, to be crass and open,” I blushed, looking shy away, “I want more, I want you, and whatever this may be,” I waved my hands between us, “I long for it to linger for days on end, like the ghost of the feel of your caress on my skin, right now. I am greedy for your attention. As I said before, there is no forever, no permanent, but I want, this… here… now, for as long as it is mine to have.”
He breathed in slow, “oh, that beautiful honesty.” He pulled up my hand kissing it, lingering, looking up with just his eyes, “To be honest in return… god, I want that too. Although, I have more faith in the possible. In the fact it may linger.” He hesitsted.
The trail off hit me like Mohammed Ali taking that last swing at Sonny Listin, fear clenched my stomach, that horrible hesitation, but I stared it down, “but what?” He didn’t rush to answer, “but what?” I said it louder, more stern.
His laugh was slow, “shhh, don’t worry, it’s just this game, the no names, I am feeling like that is being dishonest with you.”
It was my turn to laugh, “Dishonest? how? why? Have you lied in any of your answers?” He shook his head, “have you been as honest as possible at all times?” He nodded, “Do you think I have been, even the tiniest bit dishonest with you?” He shook his head emphatically, “Have you been dishonest with all of these touches, kisses?” He shook his head harder, “Good answers, I know by the way you keep eye contact, the way you lean in, the way you touch while you talk that you are used to having most of the control, your charm says that you are used to being boss; then you seem to think name, job or whatever else you think would make me think of you differently. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.”
His face was beautifully placid as I talked, as if he were only half convinced, I turned up the heat. “If you need to call me a name, give me one, if you think I need yours tell me what to call you, but I am being the most honest with you now than I have ever been in my life, with anyone. Right now, we are free of expectations; I am so much more free to touch, to kiss, to tell you even the darkest secrets in my soul; magically without entailments; this is that once in a lifetime moment of freedom; this is a slice of heaven. I keep thinking perhaps I had died and this is the after life. I have been horribly honest laying the truth of my life at your feet, my dreams, my ideas, what I haven’t actually spoke, you have read.” I slowed finally, making my point. “I believe you are being just as painfully honest with me as I you, names be damned.” I sighed, “You must understand the feeling of freedom from all that baggage I drag around, the demons usually nipping at my heels, suddenly, quiet.” I cuddle into his chest closely, “as this rapture speaks of you, it says only this to my demons, 'Sleep now. Your day is done.’ And for now they cannot find me. If I were the other me, that one with a name, I would like to talk to you, but feel myself shut closed down, quiet and I can’t become shut just now.”
Using two gentle fingers tucked under my chin, he pulled my face up to look at him; he looked into my eyes, I saw understanding; he nodded, then he rushed in like a wave, his lips were soft, his kiss, honestly pleading; I opened my self to his possibility, surrendering, accepting, wanting; kissing him back. Suckling his tongue, nibbling his lips, deepening the kiss, tasting his soul.
Pulling back holding my will in check, “Hang a name on me, call me Sue if you have to, but what is a name? Just a word to attribute, as if it could make sense of the madness in this, but we are not mad; we are human, all searching for that one thing we want… love, even for a moment, when we find that someone we must forgive for the paths we take towards that love; the paths are many, so many with wide dark places,” I kissed him, roughly pushing his robe open, pawing his chest.
“Honey, I get it; I understand, I finally understand the why; no regrets.”
Breathing slowly rolling my eyes open, “Close, here this might explain it more clarity, the scientific definition of insanity is to recreate past mistakes over and over; stuck for eternity in a temporal causality that relationship between cause and effect caught in a loop, the affected of the effect expecting different outcomes, is insanity and possibly unsanitary. It took long moments, maybe even years rattling around in my brain, but why now does that suddenly make sense to me?” I kissed along his collar bone, “I am not insane, so today, instead of zig this time I zagged,” dipping my tongue into that delicious suprasternal notch “and look where it got me. Instead of a S.R.O. like the shitty motel I was stuck in last night, the neighbors trying their best at making more cracks in the wall with their animalistic sex habits, talk about unsanitary, but today on the zag, I have this,” I kissed him hard and deep, “Will the mornings come too soon, do they? Personally, they usually, no they always do; is this night, this storm just long enough, to tide us over? I don’t know, but suddenly I am making a different choice, breaking that insanity; even if, it is for but a short while.”
That beautiful golden voice entered into my ears. “Forget about what came before; don’t fear what is going to come later.” I felt the warmth of his hands, cradle my face, the low light eclipse from my face, as he rolled us side by side, I felt that possibility, his presence washing over me. My eyes fluttered open, I look into his smiling face, “Most people spend too much time staring into screens, trying to make sense of life, thinking hard work and sacrifice are the meaning of life, I watched you check one single text message; you are not exactly that kind, but I still know, that even so, you don’t spend enough time laughing or drinking wine, kissing deeply or dancing in the moonlight.” He eased me gently to my back, looking down into my eyes; my arms reflexively looping around the back of his neck.
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