Kiss

I know, I know, you don’t need to tell me that I'm being that way again. It might sound idiotic, even puerile, but this is simply the way I am. Call me a fool for dreaming, state that I'm not living in the real world, or even laugh and walk away but it still won’t change my mind.

I'm an optimist, a seemingly positive person, battling against a hidden world filled with less than appropriate thoughts, despite having some of the same said feelings just like you. I say too little, at times, I write too much, often, but that’s me and each day I'm learning. But no matter what you say to me, whatever you do to me, throw at me, I'm still going to cherish certain moments in life.

Some dream of the big prize, the lottery win, the expensive cars and the luxury all expenses paid holidays. Been mostly there, done some of that, with none of it making me happy. Some simply dream of waking, each morning, with a smile on their face despite the intensely lonely feelings they’re feeling. Also been there, done that, sold the T-shirts and arrived back to smiling. Some dream of escaping their lives, being somewhere else… anywhere else, other than where they currently reside. It’s okay, it’s understood, it’s part of the day to day lives that we’re inhabiting.

For me, however, it’s very, very simple. I have the personality to become whatever I choose. Within reason. I will drag myself, or run, to destination B, or A, at the drop of a hat. To me travelling to another country is the same as getting on a bus to travel 6 miles. People are people, bricks are bricks, no matter the adventure of moments. I'm not knocking those things, as I adore them, love them, but that’s not how I tick.

I'm learning, each day, to adapt to my own personality. It’s currently being shaped, to a degree, to allow more freedom. It’s all an adventure. It’s exciting, it’s adapting me to a new way of thinking. We exercise our muscles, we release the knots within our frame, relaxing and indulging when we manage to make the time to fit ourselves in. When a car breaks we seek a mechanic which, when you think about it, is the same for our minds.

But, as usual, I'm rambling. Back on topic.

For me, the simplest most beautiful thing is one of the most important moments of my life. There’s been a couple, only a few, as I'm innocent! (Yeah, okay) The first kiss. Stop laughing. Romance is dead. No, it isn't. It’s alive within all of us, no matter how small, it’s there. If I really like someone, which doesn't take me long to decide, it’s the only thing I can think of. I don’t care if we've thrown clothes around a room, done all of those ‘things’ that we do, it still comes back to that. It’s the first physical connection that states how you feel about someone. Hugs are hugs, which are great, but that first kiss. Magical. Legendary. On fleek? (Did I just write that!? I feel ill)

Stop laughing. Maybe, as a child, I watched far too many black and white films. Maybe our perception, or yours, is filtered by the constant ease of a new person just around the corner. It’s not often that I honestly, really, REALLY, like someone. No idea why, but thankfully, I'm now learning to understand, ‘who I am’.

To conclude my mini rant that might make no sense:

Yeah, all true, I idolise the first kiss. It switches on, or off, my connection to a person. I'm not thinking about what you’re wearing (ish), or what the next ten years will be like, as that singular moment is the one that I want to repeat forever. Kissing is important. It’s vital. It’s the difference between making love and… the other stuff. Intentions are revealed within kisses.

Now… don’t even mention eyes… or hair. OMG hair!

Stop laughing.

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That singular moment. You know the one, that second, where your breathing intensifies, the butterflies fly, and your nerves start to invade your mind and feelings. We've all been there, ashamedly so, more than once. Some dream of it, some desire it, while others cannot wait for it to happen.

I don’t care what emotions are released, whatever invading chemicals decide to attack my consciousness, as it’s what I desire so much. I have dreamed of such things, thought of such moments for days, whilst wondering if it’ll ever happen.

I know we've spoken, for a long time, maybe even more than that, despite it being a few days amongst the rabble of social networking, but today is not the same day, fifty years previous. Far too fast, far too soon, readily available at every second, entire relationships created, lived, then ended, on-line. It’s a reality that we’re now used to. So many miss-understandings. But, saying that, I still believe in the simple things.

You’re actually here, next to me, in person, speaking with ease and I cannot deny that all I've thought about is kissing you. It’s not a big deal, it’s simply a moment, which is everything to me. I know, I do know, that I'm a contradiction in many ways. I say one thing while feeling another. I'm relaxed while jumbled inside. I'm thinking yet drifting away in your eyes.

Romance is not dead. She’s in front of me, right now, breathing and looking at me creating a desire that’s hard to bear when there’s distance between us. I just want to lean forward, place my arms around you, embrace, then have you upon my lips. It’s not difficult, it’s not a stretch of the imagination, but realistic and real.

I have to look at you, while imagining your lips upon mine. I know that this is all tame, maybe even silly to many people, but there is purity in the world. My mind may concoct such elaborate and filthy moments, erotic, deep stories and moments to make anyone blush, but the heart is a completely different story. I said that I was innocent. I didn't lie. I just left out the part of ‘where’ I'm innocent. I don’t care what I do to you, but I do care how I feel about you. There’s a world of difference and when combined together… .

That first kiss. It tells me everything I need to know. My intentions, my thoughts, the way I feel and how I’m to proceed. I want everything, I want to give everything, but only when it’s right. Kiss me a thousand times and it’ll be just the same as that first moment. I don’t want to hear the words, (I do really), the affection intention, with kisses, instead, meaning the world to me. I'm a person with base requirements in the world. Self-sufficient, able to stand on my own two feet, which means that all I ask is that you bring me to my knees with your lips (ahem).

So, right now, you’re there, you’re here, smiling, speaking, un-aware of my intentions. That’s okay, that’s fine. I’ll keep dreaming, I’ll keep wondering what you’re like, despite the talk of the bedroom, I'm not there yet. I'm still over here, dreaming, thinking, of that first kiss.

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Both written awhile back. Different time, different perspective, both reasonably valid to this day (But maybe no longer. Time will tell).

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Split

David opened his eyes, barely, as his head reminded him of the fall. It had been days, maybe more, as he struggled to focus. Slowly, eventually, he looked at the five people gathered around the bed. Looking at each of them, trying to recognise a face that he knew, his mind returned him to the present and he immediately asked for a phone. Any phone. Eager, recalling the moments of the last few days, he just wished to hear their voices again.

Dialling the number, he knew off by heart with his fingers shaking, the tears fell as the mobile started to ring on the other side. Pressed firmly against his ear, unable to stop his emotions over taking all thoughts of the people in front of him, the phone call was answered, and he heard his Daughter’s voice. He could hardly speak, barely even hold the phone to his ear, as his Daughter’s voice was replaced by another. His wife. “Who is this,” she asked with concern as she heard his distress, “Do you need help?”

“I'm okay baby, I'm Okay. I thought that I’d never hear your voice again!”

“Who is this?” she asked, confused, not recalling the caller’s voice.

“It’s me, David!”

“I'm hanging up now.”

The call dropped, leaving David confused, distraught, with the tears stopping with the shock of what had just taken place. His thoughts echoed through his mind, onto his dishevelled face, wondering what on earth was happening.

David returned the phone to the owner as the five-hospital staff, in front of him, looked at each other in confusion. Not quite sure how they’d managed to be standing in a room, with a stranger, seemingly woken from a coma. The six of them wondering what to do next.

Two days previous.

David stepped over a small earth patch, bounding up the side of a larger rock, to look out across the canyon. A spectacle to be adored, remembered, as well as the fresh air filling his lungs with energy. He didn't often manage to do this, since being married, having a child, but that didn't matter to him as he had beauty to look forward to no matter where he was. Life wasn't always easy, sometimes difficult, but with the two of them by his side, he always managed to get to where they were heading. Problems resolved, issues dealt with, keeping all of them moving.

Ideally, he’d like them all to travel to these places, with him, but the small amount of gym time that Emma threw into the week was enough for her. Maybe when older the small one would venture to go with him, but as he knew, time waited for no-one. Still, no matter the circumstance, he had to get out there when he could, even if it meant being on his own.

Stepping down from the rock, quickly dashing slightly to the side as the incline appeared, he swiftly danced through the many stones with ease. Still agile, still able to do this, he smiled to himself and enjoyed the beat of his heart racing. The day was beautiful, the day was a day of days, amongst the hustle and bustle of the city.  He could see his end point, the tip top of the small mountain, never seen by his eyes, but walked and adored by many others.

As he stepped over a small part of mountain foliage, he caught sight of a small gorge to his side, with possibly a sensible place to eat some food and to take pictures. He wasn't one to always stay on the path, enjoying the nooks, the hidden places, the less than safe locations calling him. He’d climbed before, jumped from planes, nearly died a few times, but that was what life was about. Living. Being. Feeling as much as possible. He quickly reminded himself of his responsibilities, the loved ones at home, which halted his optimism. But only by a small amount.

Stepping from the worn path, he jumped over a branch, then scrambled down the side of an earthy section of the mountain. The temperature changed, after a few seconds, reminding him that there would be water somewhere around here. He loved water falls. He enjoyed swimming, so anything other than a dry path was okay with him. As he neared another small ledge, looking over, he could see a small drop, not that bad, with his eagerness being his undoing. As he took one more step forward the ledge crumbled, taking him by surprise. He fell.

Shaking his head, at the bottom of wherever he’d landed, he felt the pain from various parts of his body. His eyes, firmly closed, as he breathed through the pain and stabbing sensations. He gritted his teeth, begging, asking, for the pain to stop. Lifting a hand, touching his side, another area of pain appeared. His rib, or ribs, probably broken. As he opened his eyes, trying to move ever so slightly, his view turned black and he passed out.

Once again, his eyes opening, noticing that the light had faded ever so slightly. He realised that he must have been there for more than a few hours. The pain, still surrounding him, echoing through him, not willing to stop just yet. He reached into his side pocket, with the pain refusing to let him do much more, he removed his phone and pressed the on button. The cracks, all the way across the screen, completely broken. Even if the phone worked, he usually kept the device deactivated with flight mode.

Slowly, placing his head onto the ground as he dropped the phone next to him, his mind turned to survival. He was six miles away from his car, with fifteen miles between the nearest possible person or safety. David ignored the pain, lifting his back from the ground, which wasn’t going to happen as the agony felt like a knife to his body. He coughed a few times. Blood appearing around his mouth.

His thoughts infected him, started to destroy him, as he knew that he couldn’t possibly crawl the six miles back to his car. He didn’t want his life to end like this. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t permit his existence to be ended by such a worthless moment in his entire life. His daughter’s face appeared within his mind, his wife’s face, his entire family greeting him in his moment of need. He wanted to smile, for some odd reason, but only for the briefest second as their faces faded and the dark night sky greeted him.

He felt his heart slowing, the pace of life asking him to let go. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay, with them, for them, to feel his warm arms around the both of them. He’d chased her, his wife, for such a long time. Adored her when she barely even knew his name. Each time she’d smile, he’d feel a part of him push him, ask him, beg him, to say something. He didn't even remember why he was so shy around her. He definitely wasn't himself, he knew that for sure, but that’s what a man becomes when he knows that the woman in front of him, is his everything.

He could feel the tears appear again, using the last of his vital energy. He remembered the first moment they’d kissed. Timeless, even silly, but that moment meant that they’d create a baby girl. His girl. His daughter. Another tear appeared, not long to go, as his heart slowed to a crawl. One more beat, just a few more moments of life, holding on, keeping their faces as close to his heart and eyes as he could manage. He started to mumble a few words, a few times, until he could find the breath for his own ears to hear, “Not like this!”

Closing his eyes, asking the impossible from his heart, he quickened the thoughts within his mind. His mouth fell open, his lungs slowly filling with air, until he’d managed to gain enough strength. One last moment, one momentary second, as he screamed as loud as he could. His mind, jolted by the scream, grasped at any scraps of energy and in the next second, his body fell motionless as he died.

The Ward manager stood in front of David, while the Policeman finished a phone call. Standing across from the three of them, stood David’s wife and Daughter. The commotion outside of the room, with many faces looking at David, bustled away to avoid a disturbance. “I've never seen this man before in my life?” Stated David’s wife, with her daughter, beside her, staring at David.

“I understand that this is all very confusing, but we will get to the bottom of this!” stated the Officer.

The ward manager, stood over David, looked at the others in the room, “This man has been in a coma for months.” 

David rested, not quite understanding what was happening, he watched as the Officer’s face turned white. Leaning forward slightly, while lowering his voice, he explained to David that his body had been found. David, mind spinning, confused to a level that he’d never known in his life, lifted himself slightly as the Ward manager adjusted his pillows. He didn't want to say too much. In fact all he wanted to do was hug his wife and child.

As they all left the room, David looked out of the window, not sure what to do next. As quickly as the door closed, it opened again and in walked a new person. “Hello, my name is Samuel. How are you?”

No matter the situation, or person, despite learning that he’d actually died, David always wanted to be polite, even if he just wanted to be silent.

“I've been better.”

“Yes, I've heard what happened. Not one of the five hospital staff know why they appeared in this room at the same time. Would you know anything about that?”

“The last thing I remember, before waking here, was thinking about my family.”

Samuel had heard of situations such as this, the moments where a tragic incident increased a person’s strength, their perception of events, or giving them heightened senses. This, however, was a new trick. “Have you ever heard of astral projection?” Asked Samuel, as David shook his head slowly side to side still in a daze. “In your last moments, your energy escaped your body. Call it grief, despair, maybe even love, but you simply did not want to leave them behind. My best guess would be that your energy split into five parts, all managing to travel the distance, ending with your consciousness, mind, soul, call it whatever you want, landing into the heads of five hospital staff.”

Samuel surmised that one mind could not rest within the same space as another but didn't want to continue saying too much. “Your family will be fine, David, but you know that you cannot see them again!” David looked at Samuel, his thoughts trying to find a solution, but failing as he realised that he was, literally, in another body. He was trapped, but alive. “You can help them by letting us study you, monitor you, if that would be acceptable?”  David nodded, wanting to escape the entire situation, whilst realising that time was what he needed. Time to adjust, time to consider what had happened, as well as space to come to terms with everything.

Samuel smiled, “There’s a storm coming David, which you might be able to help us with. I'm a member of a unique group of people that all work and study people like yourself. Welcome to Quarantine!”

Click to listen

Wings

With the weight of the world, upon her weary shoulders, she carried on walking forward. Solemn, lost, her desecrated vessel crying for solace and a serene haven to save her sorrowful soul. She was broken, stripped of her strength, unable to continue in the world where she existed as a flickering, baseless, roaming flame. She’d scream, she’d open her lungs to allow the saving air into her body, but that, that very saviour, was not for her.

Falling from heaven, stepping from safety into the unknown, she was the wide-eyed innocent soul that adored adventure. She’d fought harder than any other individual she knew, the spirited wanderer that rode into the wind as fast as possible. No fear, no reservations, the ideals and issues of others being nothing to her. She did feel, she knew that she did, but to allow such moments were the true signs of weakness. Above all, especially to peers, she excelled at every task that she saw fit to fashion into her life. She, alone, singular, could never enrage a travesty within her life. Planned, focused, even when the next day featured nothing but thoughts, it was a day of planned notions.

Then, on that day, she decided to escape the safety of her nobility. Falling, cascading, enveloping a new life of wonder and decadence. At first, she strived, broke new ground, survived with ease, looking to the stars, the heavens, to remind her of where she had escaped from. The warmth of the stars, the beauty of the moon, the ideals of her heart, all ensuring that she survived.

The years moved through her life, washing over her, tainting her, introducing her to the life of a normal being. Troubled, full of anxiety, the struggle of holding everything together, she anchored herself to the world with children. Her heart sang, her soul full of joy, the small hands of fate holding to her like three strong hearts occupying the same space. She glowed, she excelled, she decided to undertake a task so very delicate that even the Gods would turn their back on such a moment.

She cut her wings. Removed them. Wrenched them from her back with a vengeful motivation that defied all prayers and purpose. She was a Mother, she was the modern-day Viking that would never, ever, allow any soul, being or moment to command any part of her life. She stood, proud, holding onto one of her long-forgotten wings, bloodied, damaged beyond reprieve. Stubborn, majestic, the freedom bestowed upon her, liberating.

Her life continued, her heart breaking, lost within the world, at moments of great sadness and grief. The two small hearts grew, cultivated by her strength and desire for a better life. They knew, they really knew, that the heart that looked over them, would end before anything happened. The endless emotion of the one that loved. Hidden, until needed. Shrouded, until given.

She outlived them all. Her heart breaking again and again, the fallen Angel, the moments of her past lives haunting her, hurting her soul, chipping away at her very core and life. Each step, now heavy, another moment of loss within her soul. She looked to the heavens, crying, pleading, asking for respite, knowing that the answer would never arrive. Cast aside, forgotten, heralded as the one that would bring dishonour to the higher levels. Her anguish, pouring from within her eyes, she screamed using every second of power within her body. It pierced the sky, cracked through the clouds, moved through the void and finally arrived to heaven.

They looked upon her, despondent, seeing their Sister fall to such a level and place. They wanted to help, they would help, but she had lived the life of the Fallen. The gift bestowed freely given away. She wanted to scream again, to truly let them feel her wrath, but that simply wouldn’t do. It was not the fact that she had destroyed her wings, as she’d flown so many times without them. It was not the moments that she missed, when flying through the same clouds she now looked upon. It was the shear pain and agony of life. Each person, every single person, wished for wings to take them to another place, another moment, but instead, we were all destined to walk upon the Earth without them. She damned all of them, above, she cursed each of their names, as not one told her of the struggle. The struggle of being a Mother. The one that felt her heart break a thousand times yet, still ensuring it all stayed hidden behind a smile. For such beings, for such mortals, there was no such thing as... ‘wings’.

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Hocus

Taz poured the gooey substance into the pot, humming away to her favourite song, blasting in the background. She loved this, adored this, the magic of the world at her fingertips. “Bubble, toil, pudding and…” she said to no-one, stopping due to loving pudding so much. She was in love, she couldn't deny it, while others would have called it puppy love or the ideals of a dreamer.

Although young, still so very, very innocent to the ways of the wicked world, she simply liked what she liked and that was that. He wasn't in the big boy group. He didn't have the fancy hair or play a lot of football, but what he did have was a smile that melted her heart. He was, to her, the eye within the newt.  Pulling a face at her thoughts, she quickly returned to pouring various odd objects into the cauldron. Her parents did think it odd when she’d asked for such a thing, a few years previously, but they were more than happy to simply let Taz do her thing.

As a puff of smoky mist moved across her face, she recalled how she’d found the book, the most amazing and articulate book that she’d ever read in her life. It belonged, or so it said at the start, to her great, great, great, great, super great, amazingly great, grandmother. Of course, it need not be said, that her ‘ggggsgag’ grandmother was probably thrown onto a fire, which was what happened to witches back then. Maybe, just maybe, she was a white witch, doing the good deeds back all those years previous. Taz, at least hoped so.

The dried rose petals, a small amount of charred stick, obviously crushed, with a small section of red parchment paper, all dropped into the small cauldron.  She stirred for a while, thinking, day dreaming, wishing and wondering what the first kiss would be like. She’d imagine it to be very soft, a beautiful moment etched in time, while the depth of that kiss would close her eyes and create love for all around. Opening her eyes at the thought, she quickly pushed them aside, as she wanted love for herself. Anyone else could go and find their own.

Finally ready, pouring the liquid into a strainer, she continued to crush the contents that remained before whisking them into the usual lemonade that everyone seemed to enjoy. Ready, excited, nearly jumping for joy, she checked the frail old book one more time to ensure that she could recite the words perfectly. She was ready,

“Brilliant Moon, At this hour
I call upon your magic power
Give me the love I seek
As I will it so mote it be”

One single bubble appeared at the top of the liquid, informing her, telling her, that she was ready and now was the time. One last try. She’d spoken to him, on a few occasions, her shy silence ending the conversation before it had even started. She’d changed her hair, dressed differently, which is something that she didn't really want to do unless she also liked the changes. She would be brave, she would endure, she would conquer and continue no matter what happened. Today was a day of days.

A few hours later, just after gym class, Taz stood just down the hallway from the main lockers. He’d be here, soon, as he would have just finished football. He always looked so alive after football, his gleaming smile making her feel so happy and serene. Maybe she wouldn't need the potion at all, maybe she should just tell him, speak with him, get the thoughts out of her heart and mind, and be done with them. She knew that true love came from the heart, through words as well as deeds, the notions of the world’s motion bringing people together. Yes, that was the right way, which is what she would do.

Just then, as she decided, he walked around the corner heading towards his locker. He was alone, thankfully, so now was the time and she would be brave. Each step, quicker than the last, moved her towards him. He, once again, looked so cute and she adored him. That bit closer, nearly there, her smile growing and heart beating as the final step brought her right next to him. “Hello,” she said with no fear within her voice, “Did you have a good practise today?” Ray, startled by Taz appearing next to him, jumped a little before returning a smile,
“I did Taz, I did. I've been meaning to speak to you, actually!”
“You have?”
“Yeah. I know it might be forward, but I’d like you to come to the dance with me?  I know, I know, I’m nothing special and each time I've tried to talk to you, you've gone all silent, but a Boy has to try?”
Taz could have fallen over, screamed, giggled for ten minutes or simply jumped up and down, but instead, she simply replied, “I would love to go to the dance with you!”
“Great. I'm so happy. Thank you. See you Friday at 7pm? I have to go now as it’s Geog!”

Taz watched as he backed away, smiling, the joy within her reaching new levels. She looked at the potion, “I guess I won’t be needing this any more!”
“Ah thanks!” Said Dave, grabbing the drink and throwing it down his throat as fast as possible. He stood in front of Taz, burped in her face, stepped back and then…
“Taz… why have I never noticed you before? You’re so beautiful!”

Taz stepped away, turned, then walked as fast as she could while muttering, “No, no, no, no. no…”

Click To Listen

Superpower

Little Jess, sitting on the plush carpet, flicked through the super hero comics. Chewing the side of her lower lip, concentrating, musing, completely thinking about the mighty task that she’d been given. So much choice, so many opportunities and so many differing characters to choose from, it all seemed to be a bit too much. 

She knew she could do it, pick that super power, to change the way the world thought and featured within her tiny little life. Her parents, behind her, calmly waiting for her reply. They were simply happy to watch Jess at work. Each page, full of colours, adventure, the silly bad guys seldom winning in the world that she existed within. One character caught her eye, the invisible man, with opportunities to sneak into the kitchen at any time. That seemed like a sensible choice. She could do almost anything, within reason, but then she realised that it might not be the best choice. Her mouth opened, realising that if she were to be stuck in the invisible state, how would she be able to hug people? That, for her, was enough to turn the page.

Another hero appeared, the Woman of Wonder, the lasso of truth, speed, strength, the mighty woman of the world. She could do this. She could be the strong daily woman, then when needed, she’d transform into a beacon of magic. Thinking, looking out of the window, it all seemed to be a great choice. Maybe even the only choice. The page turned, reading the words, looking at the pictures, realising that to change outfit she’d have to spin and spin and spin. The last time she did that she was nearly sick which meant, again, that the Wonder Woman simply wouldn't be for her.

The Super Man emerged, wearing his tights on the outside of his pants, which made her giggle a little. The Man of bats? Too scary for her. The Man Spider? Still too scary and, besides, she didn't like those nasty creepy spiders with their eight legs and four hundred eyes. She liked the idea of speed. The chance to be in a place within the blink of an eye. She quickly flicked the page as she reminded herself of what Mother usually said to Father, “I'm not late, as it’s fashionable to never arrive on time!”

She could bend metal, fight fire with fire, control minds, ride a magical unicorn towards the moon and stars. She could stretch, like plasticine, turn green and smash, or even wear a magical suit of armour that fired cool ‘pew pew’ weapons and more. It all seemed so silly. The choice. The options. Her mind still wondering and wandering.  She smiled to herself, confident, that she wouldn't really need a suit of magic or a wand of wonder. She had the toys, she had the magical moments each and every single morning as she awoke to see a smile. A kiss upon her forehead, a hand held, she didn't wish for much within her tiny world.

Standing, she jumped up and span around to face her parents, ready to answer the question of questions. Each day, a new brain teasing question confronted her, with today being particularly demanding. She enjoyed the interaction, feeling cared for, without even knowing that she felt this way. Her smile beamed brighter than any laser beam, stronger than any man of muscle, while her smarts equalled the Man of Bats. She wasn't Sherlock, she wasn't quite the Mystery Machine, but she knew, that each and every single day, she was the butterfly. Growing. Becoming more.

“What super power would you like?” her Father asked while side glancing to Mother. Standing upon her tippy toes, hands behind her back, swaying side to side, she kept her mouth firmly closed as she looked at the ceiling,

“Ummmm?”

Finally, no longer able to keep it to herself, she started to speak, “I would like to run really, really fast. Reaaallyyyy fast. I’d like to leap a building in a single bound. I don’t want to be invisible as that could be lonely. But what I’d reaaalllyy like, is for my Super power to be…” Both parents waited the few seconds, very interested in what the little Miss would say and, finally, Jess answered.

“I’d like my super power to be my heart. As it gets sad. So it has to be big and strong.”

Click to listen

Promise

Turning, knowing what she would find, her hand touched the bed sheet and she felt the tears rise within her. Alone, in their bed, she closed her eyes and begged the world, one more time, to bring him back to her. She knew that the world seldom answered any questions, let alone the most important and imperative needs. She’d managed to sleep, for the shortest time, even as the weeks moved along in her mind. Each day, every day, the same. Her purpose, or at least her motivation, gone from the world never to return.

The tears fell, her suffering rising to her lips and she screamed at the top of her voice as her fingers scrunched the sheet into her closed, tight fist. The anguish, the loss, trying, somehow, to escape yet remain deep, sealed, within her very thoughts and blood. Her thoughts lapsed, fell from her mind, as she relived the same moments again and again.

They’d met many years previous, through a mutual acquaintance, but not something akin to a blind date. This was mutual. This was between the both of them. The usual crowded room. Many, many people, some trying to find her attention, many falling flat, but her radiance and glow seemed to attract them all. She was free, happy, living her life the way she wanted and that, to her, was of the utmost importance. Then, from across that crowded room, she caught his eye. Somehow, she knew that someone, somewhere, was looking at her. That sense of something else and maybe, just maybe, that’s why she felt as happy as she did within that small hour of her life.

The moment she smiled at him, looked down, done the usual looking but not looking thing, she watched as he immediately walked all the way across the room to stand right in front of her. A man of confidence, or maybe it was the fact that, as he had stated, ‘he just had to speak to her’. He said so many things in that short time, the moments that managed to make her feel wanted, excited, that small bit happier and that was before the final second. In that final second he’d simply kissed her on the cheek. Such a small moment. A tiny gesture. But that moment always stayed with her.

As soon as he’d arrived, he’d left, without giving her his number. She’d felt the emotion fall within, for a few moments, but trusted that he would do as she thought he would. He did. He really did. They dated. They really, really dated. She’d call them dates but they were actually adventures as, for some reason, he was alive in so many, many ways. Each time she’d see his face he’d smile in such a way that made her heart flutter. He wasn't perfect, but saying that, neither was she. He overlooked any issues she had, the small things, the big things, any single thing. He would stand upon a box, a stone monument, to proclaim that she was perfect. For him. When with him.

He truly lifted her life to another level. Any doubts, any façades broken through despite her best efforts. He knew her. Really, really knew her. The darkest fears that even her own Mother dare not discover. She was his open book and he, just this man, her man, could write his name all over her. Again and again and again. She’d loved, had lovers, but he’d taken the time, eventually, slowly, to discover her. As he said, as she’d hoped, they had many years to find the map to each other’s soul.

Together, they owned the room. Apart, they defined their connection and returned to destroy any place where they were alone. His love, his actions, truly the work of a man with morals, respect, the depth to actually appreciate and understand the levels to which a woman could fall, would rise, could conquer and become.

Then, within a second, he was gone. The tears roared within her, the raw feelings ripping at her heart and mind. She curled into a ball, arms holding her legs against her chest. No tears, no emotion, the depths of her soul, nothing, could console her aching heart. She knew that she’d continue, she knew that she’d make it through the following weeks. It was a certainty as he, that man, on that final day, had made her promise. He made her promise to continue. To carry on. To him, once made, a promise was the most important words spoken by any person. She made that promise and then, on that final day, he closed his eyes.

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Mind

Sitting there, in front of her, his thoughts trying to listen to her beautiful voice, he wanted to simply melt away but that simply wouldn't do. The room, the gentle background noise of people talking and eating, the lights were low and the feeling one of calm. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He wanted to describe her, again and again, over and over in his mind, but he’d save that for when he was alone, resting, wanting to feel the same way that he currently felt. Relaxed, happy, optimistic and maybe a little bit more.

The more. That moment when you realise that you’re attracted to someone that little bit more than friends. It’s a feeling, a notion, a buzz within your chest and mind. It’s the moment when your smile brightens and your eyes soften, but that, right now, couldn't happen. He didn't want to rush. He never did. He enjoyed the talking, the moments of sharing, where your best attempt to seem genuine shone through. For him, of course, he was simply that type of person. Or so he hoped.

Her lips seemed to be calling him, especially due to deciding that he wanted her, in pretty much every way he could imagine. Mentally, conversationally, physically, all there, right in front of him, but there were considerations to think of. Everyone always thought that he was so polite, genuine, a person of charm and consideration, but once that was out of the way, he did have a side that he despised.

He did want her, with urgency, right there and then or at least in a suitable place. But that wasn't right. Especially once he’d decided he wanted more. That was the trouble. That was his issue. He wanted one person, just one, while the many would do until that one arrived. He’d known this for such a long time, enjoyed all of it, adored, expressed, yet been sickened by his very actions.

Once done, once enacted, how comfortable would she be before he’d see the real woman? The actual person. We all wore masks, we all had issues, yet his was but a simple one. He’d fight it, ignore it, but his physical side demanded attention, despite his heart’s best efforts to ask for both to work together.

There, right there, her smile, literally making him feel the way he should feel. Forget the sex, ignore the demands, as he simply wanted to tell the world that he loved his woman, not to explain the list that had come, then gone. He wanted to be seduced by words, as well as seduce, and he knew that he could do such a thing without removing any clothes. Any word, any situation, he could find the words but in those moments, lip to lip, inches away, he could create a scenario that would break through any defence and allow his thoughts to erupt within her mind. This. This is what he wanted. More than anything. He wanted to hear her speak to him, the way that he would speak to her, for her, to adore her without question. He just needed to reach ‘that’ place. Somehow.

Every breath, heavy, laden, whenever he even thought her name, was where he wanted to be. The depth to which a man should want his woman, take his woman, respect his woman. He wanted her to look at him, in such a way that he would feel fear, at how she could handle him.  How she should handle him. A fire each and every single morning, noon and night.

The ancient souls, a kiss waiting for decades, spanning the near universe where energy knows no bounds. Each kiss, the spirit overwhelming them. Taking them. Joining them. He knew that great sex, the sex that bonds for a lifetime, is never made with the body, but the mind, the heart, the touching all joined together as one. Two people feeling such emotion, that the world around fades to black, and all thoughts fall into love.

But, for now, he knew that they’d probably end in bed. The conversation stopping, the bonding failing, the next chapter never to arrive. He’d seen it, lived it, lost all of it, then repeated on so many, many occasions. The world simply wasn't ready for such things and, if he were honest with himself, maybe he wasn't either. After all, when someone sits in front of you, and you know that you’d do anything to possibly reach that next level, you will enjoy, you will experience, you will taste and you will, more than likely, lose them.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

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