No Tears This Time

Just because there was no tears this time, doesn't mean it changes how I feel.

Swinging by after a nice quiet morning, it started, as we always do, with a conversation about the weekend. A nice one on one conversation. Its tense and yet I don't cry.

I'm waiting to go to bed, or fall asleep.

After all the good times, I have the urge to keep them going.

It started on a drizzly day. We got to go for a nice walk together. I meant it for the sake of just going out and doing something together.

But there was a lot said on the weekend. There was a lot done on the weekend. There was a lot wanted to be said and done. So we spoke, as we do, and I reminded him of everything, what he whispered in my ear.

He said he shouldn't be having those thoughts, but he was, so why? And what did they say?  He wants to come around for my birthday, really desperate to do so. Because he doesn't think he's going to see me on Christmas. I know why. It makes me really sad actually.

It does because I associate Christmas with the people I'm closest with and I wish he would be there for it. And I don't want this to turn into Halloween. I wish he could be there for Christmas Eve. That's the most important day for me.

We set out in a direction different from what we usually do. I'd never been this way. The landscape rolled  away in orange grasses and purple heather.  There are patches of thick mossy green.  The road twists and turns around bends, past groves.

The air is damp, and I'm traveling down a road I don't know. He's on my left. Once or twice we pause and examined the view or traveled along the side of the road, looked at the quaintness of the cottages. I liked the cows and bulls. Speaking of friends and people.  We play foot ball with a rock and hear someone hunting in the hills.

We started talking about personal, physical things. Stories. We're giving each other eyes again, desire. And he wonders why it is this way. I wonder too.

We have to go back and I'm reluctant, but I make no noise of it. I'm so pleased. It’s a pleasant experience and we're both happy. We came down into the town, through to his house and he wonders about how long it will last and if she really is his girlfriend.

We stop at his house and he tells me she'll be dropping by. I am ready. I can handle this, but I'm not happy about it. In fact, I wear no makeup because I know the tears will come from some point. I can handle it, again, I am drunk on it, and I know he'll be by in the evening. I give a big hug, then a second because sometimes I'm worried I'll never get one again.

Between hugs, he gives me a squeeze on my peach. It’s a break. Something happened. Something is going to happen.

We hug once more, and I feel safe.

Later in the evening, he comes by there are eyes passed between and he stays on, after SR (New Manager) goes to bed and we get a good bye hug before he goes. I just want to make it last, or sneak into his car with him.  So I just hug again, a strong heavy hug.

He goes to his car and I wave good bye from the door way.

I'm stressed. She stresses me out.  She upsets me because I feel like she took something from me.  She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing how I feel. She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing with him. She upsets me because he's not happy. She upsets me because she made him feel guilty. She upsets me because she made him feel trapped. She upsets me because she cannot see. She upsets me because… I like him and I miss him.

This Is A Gift, It Comes With A Price

I sat beside the fire last night, wrapped in a soft blanket. The heat was warm.

Sometimes I'm bad for keeping myself in check, sometime he is. The first night was him and the second mine.

The first night we made our way to the pub and then the club, as we do. I can tell the week didn't go the greatest for him. I can read the stress on him. I worry about it. If its too much, I can see it on his face, read it on his person and the way he acts. Friday was one of those nights. I had to go to the loo, there was a strange old man following me about and I needed to hide from him. I made my way to the bathroom, pausing at the door I turn and see King there, right behind me.

He' drunk. I'm drunk. Nothing happens.

Why are you so good? Why can't you just be bad? Why can't you just sleep with JS? It would be so much easier. You know it wouldn't be. You know that's the easy way out. I know but I... She freaked out at the party in Pit. And then she and my mom freaked out too. 

What can I say. Nothing.

You're so beautiful, inside and out. 

Eventually it was time to go. I was doing very well. LG and I lead him out to the street, beer in hand, we walked/staggered back to the hostel. In the walk he kept letting little things slip about us. He wanted to sleep next to me in the worst way. It would be easy with LG because she would make it look platonic.

He wants to sleep with me and hold me. He wants to feel safe.

Arriving at the hostel, we got the calendar girl shot for September, I promise not to send it to that place. He's scared and starts talking about how he feels. LG is there and hears it all.

I like Her my head, but I like her {me} with my heart. I don't know what to do.

The answer is obvious isn't it? Go with your heart? LG asks.

I've heart my heart before. He feels so much fear that its holding him back. Strength. He needs it so bad, and insight into how to live by honesty and truth.  

LG knows everything now. She can see the static between us. The lightning. It is nice in a way, and I'm glad for it. Someone can see, and she sees the truth.

Pajamas. We decide to get P.Js on. LG goes to the bedroom, I go to the laundry room where my cloths are.  He follows. I'm there in black silk and teal green, shivering in the chill that inhabits that room. His hands fall on the black cloth, drawing me close.

I want you so bad. 

I want you too, but we can't. I'm being the strong one again. One hand rests on my waist, the other cradles my chin, brushing back my curls. My hands are against his chest. Heat radiates from him, and his heart hammers against the palm of my right hand. I want you so bad right now. I wish I could just... His touch, the words, it sends a shiver through my body, and I'm backed against the wall. My heart hammers in my chest and I can feel his course bristles against my skin.

Another shiver. Another sharp breath in my lungs.

I lock eyes with him and he comes in, it's almost a kiss if I didn't move my head, and I hold him against me. He's frustrated, I can hear it in my ears. Feel it in my body. I'm pressed. I want to break down this stupid distance. I want to embrace the heat rising through my body and take him in my arms as much as he wants to take me. I want there to be no guilt or pain, but happiness, like their used to be.

But it can't be if its like this, secret.

Not now, I whisper, one day. Not now.

We make our way back to the lounge and I settle on his right, LG on his left. Under the warm blanket I feel his hand on my leg. He wants to reach and I want him to reach, but he doesn't. exhausted from the lateness of the hour, we doze before heading off to bed.





Come morning he follows me down for breakfast. I remind him of what he said and did last night.

We had lovely hangover breakfast of cheesy noodles. A day of showering and warm water, some walks around the place. Relaxing. After we eat, and my headphones are in my ears, remnants of working and dancing, but they're playing no sound. I rise, and as I pass him, take the jack for them and put it where his heart is. He smiles and says I'm sweet.

We all went out again the next night. He's wearing one of my favourite shirts. All of us share in dinner

It was my turn to be weak. I could feel the need to be around him pulse through me. I just wanted it to be simple and us to be happy. But It wasn't. Leaving the Second Place, he decided to walk me back towards the hostel, a different way. A way no one else would go. Its a slow walk up hill, through the back place, through the park with wet grass and a heart surging with questions.

I tell him it is his turn to be the strong one, because I can't help myself. He sits on the swing, balanced, and he holds as much fear as I do. I confess that I feel bad for her, for the fear she feels, and tell him that I'm not done, or out of this.

I'm suddenly pinched with the desire to not go back. I'm so stressed. I hate everything and I want it to stop. He leads me back though. We have to be good and no one else needs to know. He leads me back, singing Little Lion Man. We go to bed and he ends up sleeping across and holding my stuffed cow, worried when he woke and could not hold it.

Dawn brings work, a late breakfast and lounging in the lounge from two until eleven at night. I can feel his eyes on me and I have to work hard not to look at him. There's a warm fire, good food and a fine discussion of a hundred different things in life. I can feel the heat on my skin, the rapture of friendship and hear the heart beating of contented folk. It is a good relaxing day, and at the end of the night, when he has to go home I get three big, strong hugs, and can smell him through his shirt, and feel his warmth.

It is, in the end, a good night, but my bed is still empty.

Waking Up In A Cold, Empty Bed

A Side Exploration.

Its gotten cold out, and there was a wicked storm last night.

I wondered, as I walked down the street, about the idea of villainy and of the idea that people think its easier for me to move on because I'm young and beautiful. That always seems to be the case. Or they fear me because of my beauty. Can you imagine that? Fear me because of my beauty? Can you imagine what its like to be feared? Of course, if you're power hungry, its a lovely thing.

But I'm not. Someone fears me. It means they're so scared, and unconfident and insecure in their own strengths, that they use it. It fills me with pity, something no one loves to have given to them. I wish I could sit down beside them, and talk to them, to understand. I am so sad, because I know what it's like to be scared and its not a nice feeling.

To say about myself that I am beautiful, is not a statement of vanity and its not something I like to boast about. This was how I was born, and this is what I grew up to be. No one should feel less or more because of their appearance.

But I feel its used as an instrument. She's young and beautiful. These are such superficial things. Firstly Age is defined by how long one lives. I don't actually know that. No one does, save for death. I could (but hopefully not) get run over, or struck down with illness. In accordance with the time, I would be indeed young for societies life expectancy standards, but in my life, I would be at the end, old and over.

I am sad again, not heavy, just a passing feeling of the day, because I miss him.I can't help a hurting heart.  I was drunk on the feelings that I get when we're together. I wish I was drunk on them again.

Because I'm scared. My beauty is not something I hold on to. Its not the thing that is going to make me happy. It's not the thing that I depend on for happiness, nor my age.

Youth and beauty are the things that the Queen in Snow White desired and in the end, it destroyed her, and her ugliness shone through because of it. I should wrap my feelings up, hold back and be demure. Sitting quiet and cold as people dance about me. Bite my tongue and silence will be my jail. I should fall on my knees and surrender, accept this blade at my throat. Bottle until my silence, my bones fill with anger, until I take in my hand a poison apple and strike happiness from another.














Well, I will not.

I will tell the truth when its needed. I will use silence as a weapon and not as a chain to hold me down. I will sing when my heart needs to, when your heart needs to hear it. Upon my knees I fall, but to sit and wait in patience, for you to come sit beside me, for we all fall once and a while. Even in my fear, I will hold the little light I have against the darkness. I will wait, to feel your warm hand, and to carry each other together through the storm.

The Good Day, The Good Night, The Good Morning

In a two day fun stint, I lay in his arms again.

The first time was in the bed with others. Cradled in a safe place, in my place. I remember words he's said before. Your the only one I can sleep, holding, all night. We sword fought the next day with Mumford and Sons singing in my ears and I am happy. Despite the pouring rain, we make it outside and to the First place.

Lots of food, curly fries, and the first drink are taken up and we cheer to good times. To the Usual Place next and the place we stay for most of the day playing pool. As always, we end up on the same team and cream nearly everyone, though it's mostly his skill. We're called the dream team and I'm drunk on friendship and happiness. The stress melts. The to a live band. Then to a club.

We two spend the day together and I keep becoming tangled in Memory.

We stagger back to his place, I'll lay on the couch, you lay in your bed. We hold hands and take the back way, up stairs. I want to show you the stars one day. 

I want you to show me them one day. 

We make it back and its tea and hot water on the couch to watch Forest Gump. The feather falls and we fall asleep almost immediately. Move to somewhere more comfortable, the bed. Its purple again. I settle in the sheets and there we fall asleep, in the safe place.

I lay in bed, his bed. We weren't supposed to go there. I wasn't supposed to go back. But I knew it. was going to happen. We both wanted sleep so bad

Then morning came and it was time to go. Wrapped in his arms, he in mine, I rise to check my phone. His hand runs down the length of my back. Soon it will be time to go. Why does this happen on days I work? I turn back, I have to go soon, I say, looking down at him. I want to kiss him so bad. Does he feel the same, with his hand on the base of my back? I settle back beside him and run my hands along his neck and ears.

We were Sober.

I notice that he keeps the Inukhuk and card I gave him on the table beside his chair, and the Walrus on his Tv in his bedroom.

Its a good day, a mixed day for him. We want each other and we can't have each other. He has made previous commitments. What happens when those don't work out?

He's with her this week at a party we were all going to attend. I can wait. I'm struck by it but

I savoir the little pieces of happiness. And I am going to meet his mother.

Unmentioned Things

He's on the island now. Well, I'm not sure if he's not back yet. I haven't heard anything. It makes me nervous. He's a man of his word though, and I would truly like to remain friends with him. Lately though, I can't seem to get the old spring time memories out of my head. They're deep, personal and full of joy. There was little to none in the way of conflict, no jealousy, no sadness, no pressure. It was as it should be.

But patience is everything. I've been keeping busy with drawing, and they're turning out really well. My shading has improved. But the things I am drawing are from my spring time memories. They're deep, personal and only he and I will know what they mean. All I can seem to draw are memories.

Should I show him when he comes back?

I miss him...

I have another relationship emerging problem. One of the puppies likes me. I'm more than confident of it. SJ has taken a fancy to me. I was uncertain of it before but I've noticed little things, changes over the past few weeks. I feel bad for him, because it is not him that my thoughts are filled with.

The thing that I noticed though, is his come to mimic the people I seem to give more attention to. It was Him first. They're from the same country but their accents are strikingly different, and I can see when he tries to mimic it. Additionally we were hanging out with IR (my former manager who's moved to France) and because he's a funny fellow, I was laughing a good deal at his jokes. SJ Stared mimicking him as well. I was a little disappointed in his poor behavior. He would not have made me step down. I don't like being bossed, rushed or put off my purpose of track. The conclusion is that I'm not interested. We don't mesh the same way. There's a lack of patience and deeper understanding. There's no age.

And I couldn't get him out of my head through out the days. Ah well.

This is the new start now. In writing this I've received word of His return. We'll see what happens now that the Island Journey has passed.

The Last Hours Before Dawn

New Phone

Come With Me

Peace and Tea

When the Morning Comes

Safe Haven 

Quote

"Sexy doesn’t impress me. Smart impresses me, strength of character impresses me. But most of all, I am impressed by kindness. Kindness, I think, comes from learning hard lessons well, from falling and picking yourself up. It comes from surviving failure and loss. It implies an understanding of the human condition, forgives its many flaws and quirks. When I see that in someone, it fills me with admiration."

Virginia and the Long Guy Fox Day

It started simply.

I was beside myself come Monday. A weekend of absense after everything that happened leaves me stressed to say the least.

It was a long day, mixed bag, and started the same as it always does. I come in, as tense as I bungee cord, scared even, and sit in the kitchen, and we start talking. It starts with easy conversation  Small talk and what we've been doing

Then it gets really heavy.

She was supposed to come to the hostel/Fort William yesterday, but didn't. Needed to relax.
He tells me how he feels and I tell him how I feel. He's put on Mumford and Sons and I can't stop the tears because they come eventually, not in sobs but wide, and quietly down my cheeks.

He tells me things I heard and things I haven't heard.

He said he was sorry, and that when She came back, he should have told her he was with me but he's stuck now. And there's only finishing what he's started. He told me that she's almost left him again because he went off on his own.

Possession and insecurity. How should she feel? Fine? Even I don't think that. Its not secure, and it wont be with me around. If he feels the way he does and from what he explains, its going to be this way for a while, even if I exert no pressure, because it is towards me he drifts, at the end of the night. How it will end I don't know. Someone is going to be hurt. Someone is going to want space. And then what?

He said he knows its not going to work out and he wishes he could ask me to wait, but knows he cannot ask that. I should move on. Don't tell me what to feel. Its not easy for me. I know what I feel, and even if you are messed, I can see you're not a broken person. You're shining.
He said I make him feel good again, and that he can see the good in me, and that's what he likes.

That's beyond the beauty is what draws him to me, the sparkle, the new, almost innocent eyes.
Then the day settles. We talk more casually about the world going on around us. The finality of his work. The adventures of our friends and ideas that pass between us. It settles in to peace and I forget that I have to leave. I forget everything and remember standing in his kitchen in black underpants and oatmeal colored blouse nearly four months back.

We speak of possession and abandonment, its something neither of us likes to feel.

I spend all day at his place having lunch, dinner and a superhero movie. Half way through the superhero movie I notice the setting of the sun. My time is running out. Fear rips through me, seizing up my back, muscles and entrapping me. I'm so scared.

Then the panic returns.

What if I never feel safe again?

I tell him I feel safe in the warmth of his embrace, and I'm afraid I'm never going to feel that again. As much the warmth of his body as the emotional security it gives me to be with him.

He knows he shouldn't but its on his own accord that he comes across. I know he reads my pain and I tell him as much that I'm scared. He says it will do no good, and I know it might not, but for the brief moment it does. I'm safe.

What if I never get to kiss you again?

He brushes away my tears, kisses the top of my head, and I remember him telling me earlier that he thought my eyes were beautiful. I'm scared to touch him with my hands and he tells me its okay. Its fear tripping me up. 

Its such a fight and by the time I leave he's lulled me again into a sense of comfort, with hugs, kind words, and the soft touch of his hands on my skin. Gentle against my hip. Soft against the curve of my neck. He says he's dreamed of me, intimately.  

I should say more, I think but then I remember all the beautiful things I say about his soul, something he think isn't as strong as it truly is.

When I left, my stomach was sick. Its never been sick before, not like this. The worst sort of illness is the illness of the heart. It cut through my gut and I was forced to bed early after the festivities. No drink for me, my heart hearts to much. Not that I wasn't pleasant, and not that it wasn't fun, for it was.

--------------

It is the next day. Evening and we are out upon the town, as we always do.

And we are upon the bar we always go to. 

I see him there and do my usual best to keep it normal.

We all head off to the pool room, where there is more space. Somehow we end up on the same team, get whooped, and have a good laugh over it. Someone catches us with her camera. It is Virginia. The evening goes on and I realize that I'm hooked and walking next to him the whole way. Be quiet and just listen because I can't seem to shake where I'm standing.

Toasties.

We're all up late talking and I just end up listening. Its close to 2 and I want to go to sleep, to end things on a good note. I give a big hug and he nuzzles my head, sniffing it as he does when he can't do what he wants to. He smells so sweet.

A fight is going on in the other room, between BB and two girls, including Virginia. We ended up back in the kitchen. When BB and his chosen woman leave, it leaves us with Virginia. I start doing the dishes, as I do when I can't really think of anything else to do. Virginia turns her back, "Don't make out while I'm here."

I and He are stunned. Then I laugh. She's reading us, and its right.

She decides she wants to go up the road to find a friend to fuck. Horny little thing. Its 3:30 am.

We walk our way there, and through the park, I give him a soft little head butt in the shoulder. I want to be affectionate but this is the only safe thing I can think of doing. He puts his arm around my waist. He knows what it means. It affectionate and personal for me. I don't share that part of me with anyone but ... but him if he were mine.

I want to lean in accept it but I'm spooked. You want me to hold back. You want me to hold back and I'm not helping. It happens when he's had more than me. We stop at the door of the building and wait for her plan to fail. Poor horny thing. It does and we walk to his car.

Its a short ride to the hostel. I want to hold his hand so badly. We arrive and Virginia gets out of the car and scurries in, saying go do your thing. I say I'm following her in and she says that's not what she's expecting. I know, me neither.

She scurries in, and I linger, like I always do. I just want to slip in easy, easy for him, but he wants a hug. I give him a hug and it lingers for a time. I can smell everything about him. I have to go to bed though. Rising from the car seat, I reach out and hold his head. Its warm, and it feels so right. I pass inside, and i can feel myself smiling, the opposite of Monday.

Texted me all evening the next and last night. Sleep well ____, see you next week.

Absence

Its missing him. That's what it is, compounded of course, but that's what it is. I miss him and I haven't heard anything for almost 3 days.

Dead Battery.

I'm in that struggling moment of absence where it does nothing but burn, like fire in my blood. I'm sad, aching and cold. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

I just want to hear your voice.
I just want to see your face.
I just want to speak to you.
I just want to sit next to you.
I just want to hold your gaze with out suspicion.
I just want to let you put your arm around me.
I just want to let myself hold your hand.
I just want to hug you with out fear.
I just want to kiss you.
I just want ... you.

Oh god I'm scared more than ever. I hate the absence and the silence, because I understand why. I know where you are. I know where you're sleeping and I know someone else is sitting there listening to your heart beat. I know I'm seen as the bad one, the risk, the gable and I'm not. I'm your friend. I'm your friend and I always will be.

I am a mountain. I will stand by what I know, proud and tall.

I need to run. I need to give. I I I I I I. Am I so self centered? I can't help it. I've seen the sun. I've seen it and I don't want to live in the night anymore. Its dawn, and I'm not sure if I'm going to make it to sunrise.

Please just take my hand, and show me the world.

Three Times

I feel something like the devil right now, and I know I'm not.

Here sits the devil, all alone and sad. Here sits the devil, pretending she is glad.
Here sits the devil, dressed and made to smile.
Here sits the devil...

Let it Play Out. What if this was the way it was meant to play?

Wednesday night was interesting again. I felt this urge, almost as soon as I he came in the door. I didn't want to leave his side. I had to control my self on a highly conscious level. Then he told me she was in town. At his place. It sunk me for the evening. It weighs on my heart like lead.

I can't help it. I can't help it. I am glad the moment I see him. It makes me shine and I can hear his heart in my head. Not in a mad way. I just feel it, because that's what I do best is feel.

I've been in his thoughts all weekend, until he opened the door to her last night.

By the evening's end, we were in the back drying room, having a private conversation again.

I didn't want him to leave. I knew where he was going at the end of the night and it hurt.

I told him, holding his gaze with all the strength I can muster, never to let anyone push you from what you want, ever. Never let someone take your dream from you.

I said, I don't know what the sadness is, maybe I'm not old enough to understand or I haven't lived long enough, but I will be there for you, and try to help you though it.

I'm seated on his lap, he just wants to be safe and I want to hold him against my heart.

He's so confused. He said, again they share a sadness, but says when he's around me, he says I make the sadness feel better. I make it better, I heal it.

He said she's scared and almost left. He says she loves him. I can understand that. I know why. She sees the kindness as a strength. But would he be pushed? I don't know. I don't know her and I cannot make that sort of assumption.

I can always hear his heart beating, in my ears, and I wish it would stop so it could be easy for him, but it wont.

Someone has failed him in the past and someone has been too strong.

I can feel his fear of failure in that he thinks I'm a gamble. He doesn't want to lose anyone important to him. He's lost someone important to him, either by death or from abandonment. I never ever want to do that to him. Never.

I can feel someone's been too strong to him. Someone has controlled him to the point of breaking. Someone has told him what to do. Someone has pushed him and I don't want to ever push him from what he's doing. If you ask for help I will be there. But I will never take your dream You never take someones dream away.

He uses my youth as a way of pushing me away. But I reminded him that there are people of all ages who are older and younger than they seem. Its all very complicated.

He said he felt like she was making this party the line. The Choice. It wasn't a choice. This is not something to make the choice over. A party? Its fear I know, which is why I had to step back. This is not the place to be putting that kind of pressure. It hurts though. It hurts when I know she's there, or he's there. Its like someone's trying to shut out the stars.


Why do the clouds always take away my stars?

Even when you're far away I can feel your heart in my head. It beats like a drum and I can hear it, and I don't want it to stop. I kiss his chest, and listen because the sound is music to me. Hot tears run down my cheek, tears of truth, and fear.

Nuzzling me, he feels safe. I want to do things to you, bad things. The scruff of his cheek nestles against my neck.

He almost kissed me again. Holding me close against his strong body, I could feel his face against my cheek. I was scared to touch him. Not like this. He doesn't want to hurt her and I'm scared to be hurt.

I can't do this. I can't do this. Wait. 

I fell his lips brush near my ear and my body's reaction, sharp and warm. It remembers everything. The second kiss is closer across my pale smooth cheek.

I should stop this. I should stop this. I should kiss him.

I hesitate, feeling the bristles of his facial hair against my face. My heart is hammering. I'm so scared. Words rush through my head, and the tears from my earlier professions are all but dried. The moments in the dark, pressed against the wall, hands in mine.

Kissed again, at the corner of my mouth. I can feel it, those sweet lips that brought and bring my body to life. I am flushed and wanting. Everything, not just your body but your heart.

Then like a hare, remembering everything that is this Nightmare, remembering where you have to go, where you have to sleep at the end of the night, you bolt into the rain, leaving me with a chilling body, and a heart aching for this all to be over.