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By darwin Submitted by darwin Date: 2009 Apr 06 Comment on this Work [[2009.04.06.17.19.26959]] |
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Last night I thought of the different men in my life. The ones who have faded through time, but still linger in thought after the lights dim. Lonely nights and silence etched them into permanence. Some were ones you wished hadn't gotten away at the time, the ones you hoped would hold your heart closer than you held your own. Those ones, ones of memory and longing. At least the longing that you used to know it as, before you knew it for what it really was. Desperation. When I thought that if they knew me, instead of thinking of me as the one who would sleep with them on the first date, that there was a steadfast heart beating, wanting love. Isn't that what we all wanted? To feel that fullness of heart, of suffiency in another? Instead I found bedsheets and carpeted floors. Occasionally the backseat of a car. It didn't matter, they wanted me for 5, 10 minutes at a time. It was those few minutes of love that made me feel real for the rest of the night until I was alone again. Tears stained my pillow often. I was poor and lonely and the only way to let it go was to find a man inside of me. It would make me forget about life for a while. Other times I'd walk to the diner in the middle of the night, just a block away, and write. Writing let it all disappear. And maybe someone would find me beautiful and fall in love with me. |