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By darwin Date: 2005 Jun 17 Comment on this Work [[2005.06.17.13.41.22316]] |
| i have my secrets that i can't share. my secrets that sometimes wake me in the middle of the night, dawn hours away. my secrets that haunt me and hurt me, and sometimes leave me longing. that type of longing one can have for glossed over memories and hopes. longing thinking what if...but that longing forgets to tell me about the times rejection sent me spiraling down. when he walked away moments after seeing me. when he drove the 500 miles to see someone named cecily. i saw a picture of the bed they would have sex in. he was a photographer always with his camera. there were the sheets white and gray, white and tangled. his bodies imprint on them. somedays i am those sheets. those sheets that are forgotten on a roll of film for the times that i have laid myself down, the times that i have let myself be slept on and slept through. just a dream that was fleeting at best. and so the story goes, it doesn't continue much different then that. the faces change the bodies the location. it was the quiet after the storm, the quiet that enters a room filled with anticipation. staring and hoping that maybe this time will be different. it's not insanity that kept me going, it wasn't loved that kept me hoping, just this intense need for contact and someone to say it's okay. the world sometimes doesn't turn the way you want it. it's alright to be different, and it's alright to be alone. nobody ever explained this to me, and i never found that answer on my own. that there is love in solitude, there is love in a walk on your own. but i always thought love was between the sheets and kisses. between the lips and thighs. love was never having to say no. and now i find that love is going home and not caring how you look, love is going home and finding your husband has dinner made. it's how i can lay my legs on him while we watch tv and how he reaches for my hand randomly as we drive down the open road. his need to hug me if i'm inches away. there's truth in his affection and words. honesty. there aren't secrets to be hidden, and he won't go away 500 miles to meet a girl named cecily. the only bed he would have a picture of is one that i am in. |