Its complicated.

 

I miss the moments we had so much. Today I was able to admit something to myself. Five years later, there is a fondness for him in my heart that even time has not eroded. I always feel like I leave and keep wanting to come back for more. They say what you live for you are willing to die for. What if I say that my feelings for him will be the death of me? That is not to say I have not had affection in the wake of his departure from my life. I have met men and boys alike. Some that have worshipped the very ground on which I tread. Some were just curious about their sexuality and I was on a rant to discover myself.in that we were a perfect fit. We would rendezvous and no questions would be asked. especially when one was not prepared to accept the answer. We learnt to accept the moments as they came and surrendered to each other in abandoned want. At the peak of our passion, we all called it what it was, a fleeting moment of passion, non-similar to the previous.

But I still searched for him.  I knew where to find him, but I found it easier to drown in another without thinking about what would have been if I had given his love for me an actual chance. It was the one moment in my life when the thrill felt real. The adrenaline of the chase kept us going. It would be the modern form of toxic . pulling away like a catapult. It seemed like the further we pulled, the stronger we came. more often than not the scary moments and the revelation drove a bigger wedge than the previous. The circle goes on and on. It is a complicated bond and a crazy understanding of each other’s affection.

For a very long time, I wished the feelings were unrequited because I did not want him going through what I did. The jitters, sweaty palms, the uncertainty.  Had I known it was easier to share in one another’s burdens, I would have spoken sooner. But in all honesty, how could I? The most punishing emotion was the desire to be understood. I know one thing for sure, we have not mastered speaking to each other in words. It is our silence and distance that does the talking. In another dynamic of understanding, he knows that no matter how angry I am, how mad or resentful and even the miles in between, I love him with no doubt. So, you tell me if you know what it means to be insane.

I feel differently now. I know it is futile to search, to run to repel. Maybe my first step in gaining control of my feelings and removing the rosses from my glasses is in admitting that he makes my heart race still. I freeze when I hear his name and my mind wanders far far away. I do not wish to be removed from my fantasy.  I do not want my safety net gone. I want the comfort and security of my feelings without wondering if everything I do is right. I hate having to second guess my every move and overanalyzing what they do. I hate to notice the drift in conversations and disinterest. I hate what happens when familiarity kicks in. That said, I want things as they are. Complicated. Any attempts at simplifying anything risks tearing us asunder. It is a risk I can not take.

Comments

  1. It's the complications that makes it perfect and probably because the feelings were very intense when you wrote it.

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