And Then, There You Were
It used to be that I could wait until past the afternoon sun to get up and start my day. Just lingering in the thoughts of my squabbles from days gone by and daring to relive the fantasies of the female endeavor from just a few nights ago through massaging techniques I've used so many times before. And then, there you were – jabbering away with your mouth so early in the morning with the nagging and complaints. Waking up to brown eyes lit with so much excitement and life just makes me sick beyond reason – every single fucking morning. How can you live with yourself? No wonder your father left you. Your mother probably died of annoyance.
It used to be, that I could walk in peace. Although the extent of the serenity were but a few moments spent between running from the law and starting new fights in the next town, I had those moments – and they were my own. And then, there you were – then I had to lug your fat ass around where ever I went. And on top of that, I had to make sure that your ass was safe. If it wasn't – I had to save it too! It wouldn't have been so bad if I could have gotten some of that ass, but no – you were always too busy drooling over that fish-faced geek to notice how good you had it with me around. Sure I may not have had that sleek feline-like movement that he sported, sure I may not have been of noble lineage, and sure I may not have had fancy training in some big name dojo, but I was the real thing and I'm still the real thing, Baby!!! Who else would call you a fat ugly cow to your face and still make sure to save you before sunset? Agh – who cares? You were too flat chested anyway. I wonder how big your boobs are now?
It used to be, that I could go days on end without getting near any body of water (other than to drink it – which was rare since real men only drink sake) and not a single soul would complain about the stench my body reeked. Although, I must admit, I was kind enough to the women of the night by generally riding myself of some dirt and grime with a quick dip before bedding them. But even if I didn't, I'm sure they wouldn't have minded – with all the rough lovin' I gave them. I can't help it – I was born to please and the ladies loved it when I misbehave and when I'm dirty…they still do. Once I was told that cleanliness is next to godliness. I can tell you – I am no god, nor saint, nor any pious being. I am beloved by hell. And then, there you were – preaching to me like my soul is worth saving. Nobody's ever bothered with me before – not even my own parents. What made you think you could just waltz into my life and tell me what is and what is not good for me? Who did you think you were? You seriously needed to stop acting like you were my wife! Thank god I ditched your ass!
Oh! Speaking of whores, it used to be, that I could bag bitches with the greatest of ease – any pussy I wanted: royalty, peasants, waitresses, vendors, witches, farmers, whores, virgins, single, housewives, what have you. Without so much as a thought or wonder of what kind of people they were, or how I make them feel when I ravage their bodies with my anger, confusion, and frustration. I stopped kissing them, you know. I said you name once – while I was sucking face with this whore. Hearing your name pour out of my lips so freely caught me off guard and I threw her across the room. It nearly killed her, well at least knocked her unconscious for a while. Later that night, I came back to her. I think her name was Hana or something like that – I don't even know why I remembered her name. Anyway. So I went back to her. I almost felt sorry for her 'cuz she was in a cage and all…wearing clothes she didn't want to wear…saying things she didn't want to say…doing things she didn't want to do…using a name that probably wasn't even given by her mother. I gave her whatever apology I could muster up. It was strange apologizing to a whore…I remember thinking about her name while we were talking – how it wasn't the one her mother gave her. Then my mind wandered off to thinking about all the people I had hurt and killed in the past – how they were somebody's mother, or father, or son, or daughter, or brother, or sister, or friend, or…lover.
You weren't my lover. We…weren't lovers.
What was even stranger was that she smiled back at me and thanked me for remembering she was a person. Whores, well, people don't smile at me. It was rare and strange – that's all I could say. I used to be strong and carefree. And then, there you were. Now I find my actions dependent upon other people's thoughts and situations. I've always done everything for myself. What the fuck did you do to me? Who the fuck did you think you were? How the fuck did you end up in my head and why won't you fucking leave?
Memories of your bare silhouette plague my thoughts and fantasies on nights I find loneliness my only company. How lucky was that painter to have seen even just a smidgen of your naked body. Strange…to think what your milky white skin would have felt like on my lips, on my fingertips, next to my face, or pressed up against my body. Strange…to think what it would have felt like to have your arms wrapped around my neck. Strange…to think what it would have felt like to have your legs straddled around my waist. Strange…to think what it would have felt like to hear you screaming my name with your eyes closed shut, your lips wet, and your body slick with sweat. Then my cheeks burn with undeniable heat, my head becomes light, and my heart races as blood is pumped to the lower half of my body. And I find myself familiarizing my groins with the same ritualistic stroking motions I've used to release tension so many times before.
Now, I find myself wondering about you when I see girls skipping down the street, walking hand in hand with their lovers, smiling at their friends, waving back to their families on their way out to school. I can see you, I can smell you, I can hear your laughter, and I can almost touch you – your skin so soft and velvety, like the freshly fallen petals of a cherry blossom.
Cherry blossoms…like the ones on your dress…
Once I snapped, and I ran after the girl. I grabbed her shoulders with both hands – forced her to turn and face me. And for a brief moment, she was you – but she wasn't. And she cried and begged me to let her go. And I almost screamed at her because I wanted YOU to remember me – but…she wasn't you. And as for me – I was not myself anymore. I am not who I used to be…I've changed…didn't you see? You changed me. I can't think clearly anymore – I don't know how to organize my thoughts anymore. My mind is filled with haze and frustration. My heart – it's filled with fear…and love…fear of love…love of you. Will you take me back?
It used to be, that I could sleep through the night, or day for that matter, without the smell of sunflowers and the brightness of smiles coloring my dreams with warmth and tenderness. When I think about your smiles – how I loved to watch you light the dawn with them. So many nights I've spent waiting for the sun to rise – hoping that its rising was caused by the radiance of your smile from nearby. And I search and search, and I am searching still – hoping to catch you making a turn while heading to your home – a home you'd willingly share with me.
I've been called a fool. And I know I am foolish – foolish for thinking you'll take me back after I left you. I knew I should have taken my following footsteps in your same direction. But I was a coward. When I think about my mistakes, I think about what I can do to make it up to you. What will I do when I see you? Every time I sit down and try to sort through words to see if I can find the right ones to tell you once we meet again. And every single fucking time – they come out different. And they're always different – because there you were…worming you way into my thoughts, my emotions, into my heart, and into my life – changing me, teasing me, showing me, shaping me to become a better man. And it fuels my fire – this change that I feel in my blood. And my purpose is renewed, and I continue my search for home, and I am determined to find you once again.
Will you wait for me?