Ships in the night...
I confess, I don't think I'll ever understand why I do the things I do.
I saw Jero yesterday, and suddenly everything we had before came rushing back, and I just wanted to have it back so very badly. I'm afraid I may have made the wrong choice, even if it felt wonderful.
I don't want to complicate his life. I don't want to complicate
my life, for that matter. I want something simple and straightforward, but nothing seems to be that way anymore. I don't want to take him away from something that makes him happy, but he doesn't seem happy. Or perhaps that's just my own desperation talking, my own desire for fulfillment trying to justify what we did.
I'd forgotten how special he makes me feel, how beautiful his eyes are, how gentle his fingers are... One time he wrote some lines of poetry on my body with a pen. Two acts of creation at the same time, for which one can only have the deepest respect and veneration.
I'd forgotten how small and vulnerable he looks when he's sleeping, how he becomes larger than life when his eyes open again. I want him to look up and have me be the only thing he sees.
I'm not making any sense.
I wonder if he felt the same hunger I feel, the need for someone to fill that gaping hole at the bottom of my heart, or if he was just taking comfort in my arms, far from the reality we both had to face in the morning.
It was comfort, yes, but it might have been more. I want so badly for it to be more, and that just isn't fair to him.
Current Mood:
confused