First year of college
I laid next to Paul Smith curled up asleep in his bed. It was raining, I knew this because in the middle of the night I woke up and he was nearby. He whispered softly "Its pouring outside. Isnt it beautiful" In my half awoken slumber I couldnt truly appreciate it, though I appreciated his soft breathe in my ears. His side of the bed was heavier, and as I turned, I rolled closer. I was aching to touch him. Dying to have him kiss me into oblivion.
I started falling asleep again. And I tasted an instance. The briefest of instances where he grazed his lips over mine while I slept.
It ended there. Went no further. I could never listen to that song again. The one he loved. The one that was playing that night.
A year or two before we got sloppily drunk and slept together entangled in sheets and clothes while our glasses or red wine draped lazily on the dresser. Our body a tangled mess. My arms numb from being slept on.
We laughed. But I still couldnt listen to that song.
Another year goes by, and I cross the sea to see him on a weekend. I give up my vacation to be with him. I stay indoors to talk to him online.
I lose my mind ensnared to be his marionette. I dance to his tune, move when he wished.
He didnt realize that he was in that much control of me. And I still couldnt listen to that song.
Time went by. And I grew up. I fell in love. The real insatiable deliriously happy love this time. The kind that never hurts you on purpose. The kind that makes you feel better about being you.
I could listen to that song. But I didnt.
Finally after all these years, I travel down to his country. I see him, since we are not supposed to be friends. He looks as good as he did all these years before when I swore I would love him forever.
He is a different man, I am a different woman. What else can be said about that?
We are friends now. Or at the very least, acquaintances that dont kill each other. I am going down again for his best friends wedding. I will see him again.
Sitting in this cafe, as his song came on, feeling nothing but fulfillment for myself. I realized how much I have grown.
It feels so good to not hurt from him anymore. And to enjoy the song for everything it reminded me off. The melancholic state of finally closing the chapter on that journey
I laid next to Paul Smith curled up asleep in his bed. It was raining, I knew this because in the middle of the night I woke up and he was nearby. He whispered softly "Its pouring outside. Isnt it beautiful" In my half awoken slumber I couldnt truly appreciate it, though I appreciated his soft breathe in my ears. His side of the bed was heavier, and as I turned, I rolled closer. I was aching to touch him. Dying to have him kiss me into oblivion.
I started falling asleep again. And I tasted an instance. The briefest of instances where he grazed his lips over mine while I slept.
It ended there. Went no further. I could never listen to that song again. The one he loved. The one that was playing that night.
A year or two before we got sloppily drunk and slept together entangled in sheets and clothes while our glasses or red wine draped lazily on the dresser. Our body a tangled mess. My arms numb from being slept on.
We laughed. But I still couldnt listen to that song.
Another year goes by, and I cross the sea to see him on a weekend. I give up my vacation to be with him. I stay indoors to talk to him online.
I lose my mind ensnared to be his marionette. I dance to his tune, move when he wished.
He didnt realize that he was in that much control of me. And I still couldnt listen to that song.
Time went by. And I grew up. I fell in love. The real insatiable deliriously happy love this time. The kind that never hurts you on purpose. The kind that makes you feel better about being you.
I could listen to that song. But I didnt.
Finally after all these years, I travel down to his country. I see him, since we are not supposed to be friends. He looks as good as he did all these years before when I swore I would love him forever.
He is a different man, I am a different woman. What else can be said about that?
We are friends now. Or at the very least, acquaintances that dont kill each other. I am going down again for his best friends wedding. I will see him again.
Sitting in this cafe, as his song came on, feeling nothing but fulfillment for myself. I realized how much I have grown.
It feels so good to not hurt from him anymore. And to enjoy the song for everything it reminded me off. The melancholic state of finally closing the chapter on that journey
