It was silent in that room. Silent, except for the tick-tick-tick of the stone clock. The clock had been hanging there for years, but still kept its steady beat.
Tick-Tick-Tick-Tick.
We just sat there on the bed, his arms draping over my shoulders in a semi-hug. I was being straddled in the "V" of his legs. Even though it was warm in the house, it felt like we needed 25 more blankets to keep us at a normal temperature.
We'd sat this way many times before, but this time it felt different. It felt like we were thinking of ways to change, we were wishing things were different, and waiting.
"For what?"
I'd ask myself silently.
"What are we waiting for?"
I never learned the answer.
The arctic cold of the room was apparent. I was searching his body for every pocket of warmth I could steal. I looked up and his skin was pale white, just as pale as the white sheets. His eyes stared into mine as if he'd never see me again.
He didn't crack a smile; he just stared into my weary eyes. Eyes unworthy of his beautiful sparkling eyes. He knew this, but didn't care.
He knew all my damaged little secrets. About my father and mother. About my many affairs. About my addictions. My oh-so-many broken parts.
How could he bear the tears and sneers of each day? The whines and snipes of each hour? The sighs of each minute? The fear and vulnerability of each second?
How?
But somehow he still tried to put me back together, even though I pushed and shoved and urged him out of my life. I was afraid he might get shattered by the same hammer.
ME.
How I wish I could just shut him out. Wish I could drop him in foreign land as to hope he'd never find his way back to this mess. Hope he'd never find his way back to the useless, shattered shards of my heart. But being as selfish as I am, I keep him here to drown in my misery right beside me.
Pitiful.
Yet when I do tell him to go, to save him, alls he says is, "I love you. I will never leave you in the dust. You need me and I need you, we need each other. You're perfect. I would never dare to put one screw back in place purposefully. You're the only one. The only one I will ever need or want. You deserve love.
My love."
And I will bury my head and cry. For what he says is true. I just hate to admit to it. I do deserve his love, and he deserves mine. But deep inside, I know some of what he says is lies. I don't fully deserve his love. Nor anyone's. For I lose it all. All the love I get, I lose.
No matter whose.
We still sit in the eerie silence. The sun has begun to dim itself for the day. The sweet dark of the night shall soon come and envelope us in cool, merciless black.
Marvelous.
He and I have nothing in common. During good days we joke about our oppositions, while saying "Opposites attract!" And maybe they do. Maybe we are living, breathing proof of it.
But maybe we're more alike than we see or care to acknowledge. Maybe opposites do attract in terms of magnets. But maybe it's different with people. Maybe being similar is how we compute, how we love,
How we survive.
Even though it seems impossible, we do share one thing, one very significant thing.
Each other.
A sudden shift of his body interrupts my thoughts. His back is now resting on the bed and my head is on his chest.
This change is welcomed.
I stop thinking. I just wipe my brain completely, so very useful at times. The blank void is appreciated. There is nothing stressful, joyful, meaningful, aggravating, or otherwise here.
But I can't stay long.
So I pull myself back to the surface and begin to wish. I wish for more time. I wish for him. I wish him luck with me. And I also spend a useless wish on being whole, for that,
I'll never be.
"What's half is never whole," I whisper, hardly audible.
I feel him begin to sit up again. His back is straight when he whispers in my ear,
"But it can come pretty damned close."
Then I feel him kiss my hair. He gently lifts me from where I sat on his lap and places me on the soft mattress. He stands beside the bed.
He leans down again and this time his lips find my forehead, my nose,
My lips.
I kiss back, ever so slightly. He pulls away though and that leaves me hungering for more of his taste.
His sweet, amazing taste.
He walks out the door taking his scent with him. Suddenly I feel like a child who's been left by a parent. I feel lonely, deserted, abandoned. So I slip under the covers and breathe in the smell of leather mixed lightly with smoke. I listen to the pounding footsteps to the door. And finally, I hear the door,
SLAM.
I want more. More of him, more of his love, more of his kisses. I want showers of kisses. Never have I been loved by anyone so much. Never have I loved anyone so much. But never will I tell,
For secrets shall be kept for other days, other times.
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So... how was it? I guess it could be classified as all pairings with males in them, but I didn't want to start off my Bev. Hills stories with ships. So use your imagination! I see it as leaning towards a Dylan/Kelly moment, but you can have whatever you like. Hehe...
Reviews?
-Anna