Blind

Blind. Unable to see; lacking the sense of sight; sightless; a blind man. All these describe me. ...No, I didn't go blind, I can see just fine. It's a figure of speech kind of thing.

_-_-_-_-_-

What the hell am I doing? What convinced me to do this? Oh god the pain... Wait, what're you getting out of this (Sick minded readers!)? Anyway, after a few days to think about it, I've decided to give Paul another chance. Something about it feels wonderful, but a bigger something's screaming, "WHAT THE HELL?! YOU HAD LUCUS IN THE PALM OF YOUR HANDS, AND YOU JUST ABANDON HIM FOR A TWO TIMER?!" I choose not to listen.

Even though Paul and I are dating again, I'm still living with Lucus. I think it benefits two things: 1) Paul will not have as many sexual cravings as he did before (which hopefully will hint him that I don't wanna have sex.). 2) Help me decide if Paul really is right for me before I move back in.

Something doesn't feel right about dating Paul, like there's something missing. Like a cannon has no ammo before it bombs it's target, or like a bird with no wings trying to fly. I dunno, it's an indescribable feeling, or a strange feeling. When he kisses me, something aches. When he touches me, part of me dies a thousand times. What does this mean?

_-_-_-_-_-

Paul decided to take me out to a movie and dinner a week after hooking up. I enjoyed the movie, which was about this boy claiming there's an alien among the human race, but no one believes him, and he tries to prove he's correct (which he is) the entire movie. The dinner, you ask? Well... you'll have to read on to find out.

Well, we went to this Italian restaurant, which was really expensive and fancy looking, and we ordered our food (which, looking at those prices on the menu, wasn't cheap!). While we waited, we talked, and talked. What about? Just stuff. Conversation went from how bunnies are killing flowers, to butterflies, to candy corn, to dolphins, to whales, to how spaghetti should be a crime, and, finally, to how the human race is too advanced for Earth to handle.

"So, it might be true that in 2012, it may be the end of the world," Paul said. "I mean, Earth can't get any worse than it is."

"I don't think so. If we made it to 2010, we can still make it even further than 2012." I replied.

The waiter came over and gave us our food, before going off to wait on some other people. Silently, Paul and I ate, having no conversation what-so-ever. It took till we finished eating to pipe up conversation.

"So," Paul began, "how's Charles doing?"

"Charlie."

"Sorry. I meant that."

I shrugged it off. "He's doing just fine. Starting to get the hang of living, ya know?" I giggled, receiving no form of laughter from Paul. "Eh heh, sorry, just a bit of a joke."

"I see...."

"Said the blind man to the deaf prostitute." I laughed again. Again, Paul did not laugh at this. Am I really that corny? "Gomennsai, I shouldn't be joking like this."

Paul shrugged. "Don't worry about it. At least you're not all snores ville-ish... Ya know what I'm saying? I mean, it's corny," I knew it, "but it's not boring me to death."

I smiled. "Yatta, I'm not boring!"

"You kinda are."

I frowned.

"Just kidding." Paul giggled.

I giggled. You're such a kidder, you are, Paul. That's what I like about you.

(Before I go on, note: You know those booth tables? Well, Paul and I landed up in one of those, and we chose to sit next to each other.)

Then I felt a hand touch my thigh and run closer to my merchandise. I moaned weakly, forcing myself not to give in as much as I could. I stopped Paul's hand from moving any further and removed it.

I gave him a firm, serious look. "No."

"C'mon, you know you want it." He went for it again, and like the scene repeated itself, he earned a weak moan from me before I removed his hand.

"No." I said it with a more serious tone in my voice. "Stop, otherwise we're through."

"Honey, don't get so over dramatic. It's just a little fun once in a while." Paul gave me a cute look and kissed my neck. I gave in for a mere moment before pushing him away.

"I'm serious, Paul!" I retorted. "If you can't obey the rules, I'm done in this game of love."

"Baby, I'm sorry. Don't say things like that. I'll stop. I swear." Paul took my hands into his. "Forgive me?"

I sighed and smiled. "Alright. Let's just forget this happened."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

_-_-_-_-_-_Later_-_-_-_-_-_

Paul took me to his house (after I had to pay for the fucking expensive bill at the restaurant), and showed me some of his paintings he's been working on since we broke up. They were really beautifully painted. Almost, maybe even, as if it were painted by a professional. He painted a lot portraits of me, which were really cute, one nudity painting of a women with angel wings (as if she'd just died and was about to be sent to heaven or something), and, my favorite, self portraits of himself. They were all too amazing.

"Wow... incredible..." I was awestruck. "This is... these are... just purely amazing." I glanced at Paul. "You're really good at this, baby."

He shrugged. "With a lot of practice, you just improve."

"Yeah..."

Paul pulled me closer to him and gently began kissing me, which quickly turned into one wicked, wild, passionate, French kiss, simultaneously, pinning me to a wall. I allowed the kiss to go on until Paul got a bit carried away. He held both my wrists with on hand, while his free hand reached for my crotch, where he began feeling me up. Natural instinct made my knee go upward, pushing away his arm, and hitting his own crotch lightly.

He paused the kiss to speak. "Relax." How can one relax when they're scared shit that they're gonna do something they don't want to? Paul tried kissing me, but I kept avoiding it.

"W-wait a minute," I tried to push him away, or at least get out of his grip, but to no avail. "P-Paul, s-stop. I don't wanna."

He made a shushing noise. "You will once we get started."

"N-no, please." I tried to get out of his grip once more, failing once more. The minute Paul touched my pants zipper, I began to struggle more until, at last, I broke free.

"What's your deal?"

"What's yours?! I told you 'no'! No means NO! If this is what you're like, I'm done with you!" I turned and began to storm out of the room.