14 март, 2017

everything ends eventually

I can't believe I forgot about it but here it is. I remember lying beside you, n your UNWE T-shirt because it's the only one you're willing to share and it's an added joke to me being a SU student. Anyway, I lie down beside you and my eyes are heavy with sleep but I force myself to stay awake just for a little longer. I try to memorize the room in the darkness, the way you're letting me sleep almost in the middle of the bed (though I am quite small and easy to move). I keep my hand on your arm, gently drawing lines helping you relax and fall asleep easily. You purr instead, almost like a kitten under my touch and you lean closer. My arm rests on your chest and I'm faintly feeling your pulse until you turn facing me but keeping your eyes closed and trying to actually fall asleep. Instead you come even closer, leaning in after my every touch and your breathing become shallow and a bit uneven. I close my eyes, pretending I'm falling asleep as well though that's the last thing on my mind. My senses are painfully aware of the closeness between us but I stand still, afraid to open my eyes and see you looking at me in the darkness. A smile threatens to play at my lips but I keep still, not daring to move, let alone smile. Then I taste the sweetness of your breath as you come even closer and your nose touches mine. I'm desperately fighting with the demons in my head saying I should make the distance disappear and the angels telling me to hold still. And I do. Hold still I mean. My hand keeps touching your skin, the back of your head where your hair ends. I make the same movement, not daring to let it show. Because if I did, you'd see right through me. Then all the thinking disappears as your lips crush into mine and your hands find their way to my body until we are tangled in one another, not sure where one ends and the other begins. The intensity grows, comes and goes in waves. We are all over each other and it's as if we're underwater, not aware of anything else around. Then we come up for air, gasping, whispering something to each other but mostly wanting nothing else but to drown in the sweet impossibility of it all. At some point the ocean settles, the storm passes and so do we, no longer desperate and in denial about the feelings we might have. Sleep comes a bit afterwards when I no longer have the strength to draw lines over your skin or to watch you while you fall asleep. Still, we are in each other's arms, not wanting to let anything come between us, even if it's just the air we so desperately need every now and then. I'm vaguely aware that you're asleep already as you stir and startle in your own sleep as I know you usually do but I hold you a bit tighter and you seem to become calm again. 
The morning is a quiet event of getting dressed and ready for work. Weirdly enough you enjoy music early in the morning and you're usually annoyed by people around you but you seem to not be annoyed with me. It's weird to be woken up with a kiss and then not even hugged goodbye. But in our defense, it's way better to not talk about your weaknesses, isn't it. Why spoil the good memory with an awkward explanation when it can happen again afterwards.  

13 март, 2017

broken and made

So what if the books I read make me a hopeless romantic? I've always wanted a fairy tale and weirdly enough have always tried to make it look like one. My story, remember. All of it, with every decision there for a reason, even if the reason is that I'm stupid and haven't learned my lessons yet. 
I wrote it down. I write here, in the notebook, in the other notebook. I talk about it, I write about it until it's all out in the open, until it no longer has any effect on me. I'm having my overdose until I get sick of it and decide that I've had enough for good. That story goes backwards with you saying that you should have tried harder when the time was right. When I'm over it, which will take me a while, that's when you'll decide you want it. You want me. It's the irony that follows my life. Weirdly enough, I learned the lesson. I want better, thanks to reading books. I want it all, body and soul. I want it to be worth the effort and well, the time. Because I've wasted a lot of time chasing people, then their ghosts. I might as well start buying cats and dogs already. Instead the idea of moving seems more and more compelling and I might as well give in to it. Otherwise I'm still sidelined but way better. Going back to work will be the hardest task yet. Being on my own will be even harder but I'm willing to do my best as usual. 
Things will start to change pretty soon. I can feel it. It's supposed to get better for a change or I'll make it so anyway. The world and everything in it. Suddenly I matter again. I'm strong enough and I'm worth it, without having to explain or prove it anymore.