Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Friday, February 21, 2014
Her: So, tell me.
Him: What do you want to know?
Her: How you saw me.
Him: You know better than anyone, why do you want me to tell you?
Her: Because sometimes, I just need to hear you say it.
Him: Well, it wasn't until that night that I really realized how beautiful you were. Not because you weren't noticeable, but because I was walking around with these blinds on. I remember coming up to you and talking to you, Immediately I was captivated by your smile, and then by your walk. I offered to take you to your car, and it was honestly out of concern, a lady should never walk alone in the dark.
That night...that night was the catalyst of what I thought of you. As they say, first impressions count, and you definitely made yours. Everyday you walked in with an immense sense of joy and confidence, wearing that big, beautiful white smile, always walking tall, no matter what you wore, you exemplified the word sexy.
Your strides, flirty and inviting, causing any person, man or woman, to take a close inspection of your figure, to watch every corner of your body work it's mechanics, it truly was a miracle. It's complexity creates such beauty and with a wave of a hand your attention is gained, with a simple gesture of welcome. On to reveal the wonder above your shoulders. Your hair, so complementary, your eyes, peering into ones deepest desires. But with the most gentle and sweet look ever. Such a marvelous contradiction. The structure of your face, like if it was made by a team of the most skilled architects and artists in the world.
And then, that neck, that long, smooth, dark, beautiful neck, just crying to be worshiped, asking to be bitten. It's start and finish are the perfect example of anatomy. Starting from the most slender feminine shoulders and ending at that sensual divide where your hair starts. And if one is lucky enough to explore such an area, one would find a whole other world to explore with one's lips.
When you walk by, you stop time and you bring happiness. I saw you as a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman, who knows what she wants. Who is open minded and understanding, mature and adventurous. I saw you as such, and I still see you in the same light.
Her: A thank you is not enough. How you describe me, the words you use, how you construct each sentence... I will never be able to...You make me smile from within. You are an amazing man, and I am glad you took those blinds off. Not because you saw me, but because you let me see you, truly see you, you let me in.
Him: I can never thank you enough for that. You came to my rescue at a very dark time for me.
Her: You weren't the only one that needed saving. With you I learned that it is possible, that I can still go on, that I can still love, with no strings, just give, no expectations. With you I experienced the wonder of being happy because I brought happiness and light to someone else. You are a truly wonderful man.
Him: I love you.
Her: I love you.
It's wonderful. And it is also driving me insane. I can't seem to shake his image out of my head, to stop myself from mentally repeating his name over and over again. I can't stop feeling him all over my body, His hands, his lips. His scent lingering on my skin. It is maddening! Pure torture and complete pleasure. How is this possible? It's like living in a senseless reality, or a logical wonderland.
All I can say is: Have I gone mad?
Sunday, February 16, 2014
It is a good thing that we can only see the exterior, the physical parts of each other. It is a good thing that I can wake up every morning and comb my hair, put on makeup, wear a nice dress, and put on my best smile. I can go out to the world and no one will know. They won't be able to tell that I am broken, damaged, tainted. They won't be able to see that I bleed inside, that I scream in pain. They won't be able to know that I am consumed by my loneliness. It is indeed a good thing, bacause if they knew, how could they still want me? How could they love me still?
Saturday, February 15, 2014
The wild side of me often wonders about certain cravings, certain...practices. why is the thought of being bound while being had so appealing? The thought of being blissfully tormented so inviting?
Why is the idea of being blindfolded so attractive? Why is it that we may find pleasure in certain type of pain? Is it about control? Playing with fire without getting burned? Or is it about pure desire, lust, letting go? do we really enjoy, want, to be tamed, controlled, subjugated?
Do we want our demons silenced by a stronger demon? Or is it that we want to release them to a worthy master?
Either way, the thought of being, just for a brief moment, subdued, is somewhat seductive... and it shouldn't be.
But if you knew you could be that one person to be in control...would you do it? Would you make then kneel, would you make them yours?
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
"As sons and daughters, we should always remember that we owe everything to our parents, but mostly our mothers, without them, we would not be here..."
For the last months of her life, she would always sit on the porch, and you would always hear her say "they are coming today, I know it." But they never came.
She sat and waited. She waited for the children that never came. The same ones who always promised her, who always said they would, soon, visit. The same ones who, in the end, never had the time, never could make it, and always called with an excuse. They never came.
They didn't know she was living her last days. They a;so didn't know that she would always wait, for she finished every call with "it's ok, I understand, tomorrow maybe, or another day." But still, they never came.
Her mind, slowly, slipped into a state of stillness, a state of numbness that made her do the same things over and over. She would wake up, call all three of them to say good morning, though they rarely picked up. You see, they were tired, sleeping, or just didn't have the time to take that one call. She would then leave a message and all she would say is "maybe today? I will be here. I will wait" And still, they never came.
Every afternoon, right at 3 pm, she would put on a dress, a freshly washed and ironed dress, and comb her hair, and put on some makeup, and sit on the porch, to wait for her children. Her little ones. She would wave to the neighbors, and when they asked, she would say "today is the day." But still, they never came.
That last day, the call came earlier, but they didn't pick up. They never did, at least not at that time. That last day, the message said "I know it's earlier than usual, but today may be the day. Please come, I will wait." She did everything else. She bathed, she got ready, she wore her favorite dress, and she sat on the porch to wait. That day, she closed her eyes, with a smile on her face, because in her mind, that day they came. It was the last time she sat there, it was the last day she waited. But her children, in reality, never came.
They got a call at 8 pm, from a number they did not know. That call they picked up. The phones hung from their ears. They didn't really listen past "she's gone." Today they all sit in her house. Today they all shed the tears. Today they all talk to her. Today is the day they came. But today is the day she is not here to wait.
Don't let that day come to you. Go to her, don't make her wait.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
I hope you all love it as much as I did.