A year ago today I was kissing, what I thought, the man of my dreams to be. A year ago today, I was quieter than I thought. A year ago today, I was standing on the edge of an abyss. I didn't know it at the time. I thought it was the start of something magical, and all I had to do was make it to the end of the winter. Spring would breath new life into me and I would travel the world and be happy.
I had no idea how far I would fall, how high I would rise, and the fresh challenges that would await, trying every bone of my body and the strength of my spirit, beyond anything I've ever experienced before.
They call it Love I suppose.
They split again in the night. He's frustrated and split in two over this. Oh the poor broken boy. I his heart so shaken from everything, pulling and pulling to the point that he's losing bits of himself. When you're pulled so hard, it cracks the cage we put around the worst bits of our personalities.
But I jump a head. I'm forgetting that I dreamed of him, in my fevered state. It wasn't the usual, heated desire. It wasn't the hunting for him through a sea of faces or down empty corridors. It was a monster, grim in its grey skin and long black over coat, cruel eye, hurting him, hunting for him. And I was the only thing that stood between it and him. I was't afraid when I fought it, with my bare fists. And I knew he was behind me scared but I need to help him. I don't recall how it ended. But I felt strong. Good about the dream.
I'm tired. I've been unwell from illness and it makes most things I do weighty and heavy on the body.
He's tired. He needs to go away and make a change in himself. He's so scared to break this person.
As is tradition in our visits, its small talk first an, lately, he renovates his home as we speak. He was rather surprised by how unwell I was. He's surprised too.
Then we start speaking about his weekend. I will never divulge the full details, its too much. Its a heavy burden he puts upon himself there.
He tells me the things spoke between him and her, and the words I came to say suddenly feel useless again in my mouth. They split, as I rushed to say above, but then, in the morning, got back together again after a long. talk. He needs to get out he says.
This part, this part they spoke of, scares me most, is that, in January, when she takes her holiday, she'll spend two weeks at his place. Fear roared through me.
No, no, no, no.
And then an empty void of terror.
We're going to talk about everything, and see that at the end of the two weeks, if we think we should try, then we do, and if not then we don't.
He's told her he wants to leave, get out of here. This was never his scene. It was a reprieve from it all. It sit in silence in a monastery with monks and quiet thought, and yoga. I know why. It brings him peace. He needs it, to tell you truthfully, because its the only thing I can do. But, he suggest if it works with her, than maybe she'll go. I don't think so. And I don't mean that as the biased person. I mean it as a friend who sees another friend struggling. I mean that because he needs to find his centre with out someone there. Without complications. I might reiterate that when next I see him.
They talked about me too. If you do want to be with her, then don't do it right after we break up, she says. He reminds her, that we're just friends and that I'm flirting with guys at the hostel. Kill the scent you know?
I'm not that kind of person anyway. I know people need space in those times, after break ups. And I'm not that kind of person who flirts and hands out my self. I am, unfortunately all heart.
I start crying of course, when I tell him I'm sorry I'm not strong when I should be, and I tell him when he's hurt me, and why it did. In all his sense he tells me its okay and its both our faults on strength, and that he won't do the second thing again. We've had a trying month.
My tears get to much and I'm sad and I'm scared and I'm hurting from it all. So he hugs me and sets up the new Hobbit movie, which I was stubborn to watch. I wanted to keep talking and I know movies distract me easily. we curl up on the couch and I shpeel some useless facts about the nature of Smaug, the history of Middle Earth and all those delightful fun facts. We have a bit of lasagna and I'm not very hungry from the stress and lack of eating during this illness. He's stressed, muscles tense and tired from all the work he's done, and other things, so I give him a hand massage. Its not erotic, nor hyped its comfort, and we end up with our fingers twinned.
The movie ends, and we end up talking. About light things mostly, hostel life. What we thought of each other when we first met. It's hard to think that far back. There's so much that's come after. He said he thought I was Gorgeous and that CD was being a masochistic twat as usual.
He never told me, that he told BB that he fancied trying to be with me, in Shnecky. It frustrates me when I hear that. The closeness I missed. I remember being worried about him and wondering where he was. It frustrated me, thinking back on my niavite. Think of all the things I could have stopped.
I tell him I think of how things could have been if I had stayed and what we'd be doing now if nothing happened. He told me it was she that called him, in the summer, and he would have been glad not to hear anything from her. It would have been fine. I keep proving myself in his eyes, in loyalty, in honesty. He hopes, for it would make it easier, that I would unprove myself. That I would kiss or lie with another, just to prove his insecurities. Yet I don't and I prove myself again and again. .
I've done everything right, so why am I being punished? What did I do in my life?
I don't want to break her heart... I turn my head sharply ....or yours.
I remind him of the stuff that She's done, and why it sometimes makes no sense to me. Why everything she's done makes no sense to me. She is a nice person, but she's broken your trust. You're both built on broken trust. Its like building a house on sand.
We'll see what the two weeks will bring to each other.
So I wont see you for two weeks? There's a sadness to my voice. And it is, its a scared sort of sad.
Before, certainly. I'm not certain I'm going to be going for New Year. I'm tired of the scene. But not while she's here.
My legs lay across his lap and I'm holding his finger. I want to fall asleep, here warm, cozy and safe. I tell him I missed him the most when I was sickest. Little chat flicks between the heavy and the soft. We play, and then we're serious. We speak of movies and pretend to be Hannibal, then he tells me his heart sinks every time I cry.
He says he knows there's something special between us, a friendship that goes beyond just friends. Its a connection and he won't lose that, for he know's its what I fear most of all. We have this lovely connection, and he said, poor She doesn't know what forces she's contending with.
I kiss his forehead. I have to go, he reminds me.
On the way out the door, I put on my new headphones. He takes them, nicely and puts them on his ears, shuffling through. Briefly dancing at MC Hammers song put in the first Ninja turtles, he stops on Your Song. Its a pretty song, and he puts the sound up and presses his forehead against mine. I listen to Elton John's words through someone else's lips and I know he can hear my thoughts.
We part, and I'm full of drunk confidence. Its still holding out a bit, but I know it won't last. My insecurities get the best of me.
It was a good evening though, the news was interesting, stressful, but news nevertheless, and I was comforted by his warmth and his presence, his touch and words.
