A question of freedom
I once asked him why he didn't just quit me. It was on our last trip, during our fight.
I asked him why he wouldn't let me be, why he couldn't just let me be free.
Free of him, these trips but mostly…mostly free of the emotions that that haunted me in my every waking moment.
Whether I was with or without him I could never let go of the feelings coursing trough me, making my heart ache with need for him.
Freedom was both present and absent in our relationship. We were free with each other, away from the iron grip of the society, and yet we were never really free. We weren't free because we could never be without each other. These unspoken feelings between us would always be our prison.
But what a prison it was…
When I asked him why freedom couldn't be mine, I asked seriously and I meant it.
I wondered what would have to happen, what I would have to do, for me, for us, to be free…
…As much as I longed for freedom, I knew deep down that I could never be without him.
I asked for freedom and I got it. I asked and was given an answer.
I got my freedom, he died.
I got my freedom from his death.
Free from him, the trips but never free from the feelings.
The emotions course trough me with more then before, invading my sleep, my thoughts, worse now because of the knowledge that I will never lay my eyes on him again.
So I'm back where I started, free but never really free at all.
Free but imprisoned without him.
I asked for freedom and I got it.
It was only after that I realized it wasn't what I ever wanted.
What is all the freedom in the world worth when you have nobody to share it with?
Now freedom in hand I long for prison, because at least I would be with him.
I'd rather be imprisoned for an eternity with him, then live all of my life in freedom without the love of my life.
Without Jack.