| Well it has been quite a while since I have obsessively listened to a track over and over, getting high off its rhythm and the memory it holds upon first listening. Dare I admit this, I've been seeing someone, whose intensity and raw style of emotional connection has got me feeling more than flustered as of late. There have been many quotes over the years that I have stumbled across defining the difference between lust and love. The one that I love the most was from the film "Original Sin" when Antonio Banderos' character is falling deeply for his new and mysterious wife played by the stunning Angelina Jolie. When asked what he feels, he openly admits to not knowing the difference between the two. His friend goes on to define love first. "To give, and then to want to give more." And lust? "Lust is to take, and then take more. To devour, to consume. No logic, no reason." In his particular case, he was filled with both undying love and relentless lust for his wife, who later on becomes the source of his downfall and salvation. I began writing this yesterday evening and am finishing up this morning, glad I hadn't managed to complete it because of some events thats took place towards the later parts of last night that I find to be the finishing touches on a romance that never took off the ground. In fact, I hijacked that flight by impulsively cutting all contact before it could reach its destination, the stars. The moon. His moon... that luminous opal that shines in the dark skies. That beckons him to reveal a part of his loving soul to a vulnerable, damaged stranger like me. His gaze that night has dominated the last few days of my mind. I feel possessed. Consumed. No logic, no reason. So is it lust then? This fervent intimacy.. Or is it love? I ask myself if I want to give this man anything, or if I only want to take. And then take more. I realized I neither want to give or to take. I only want to be taken. Yet the very thought of it both fascinates and frightens me to an overwhelming degree. It is cynical to say this, and only a small percentage of me believes this to be the case - that human love - which I believe to be lust in disguise of intimacy serves like a virus that somehow finds it way into the core of the host and proceeds to take over. What astounds me is to experience a level of such intimacy through a few moments of soft caresses, that the memory of it brands my mind to the point of obsession. We take delight in the unexpected. The unapologetic. The way his eyes shone beneath the orange tinge of the street lights in front of my home. The feel of reclining the seat to listen to this song for the first time. The familiarity of the percussion. The rhythm of it playing to my heartbeat. And this stranger who spent the evening opening himself up to me, so transparent. So unapologetic. His gaze was such as he watched me lay back with one of my arms above my head, and the other crossed over my heart. Protective, yet suggestive. I knew the tension was there, but I was melting as the man's voice in the song droned on. I was falling. And when I opened my eyes to his touch, I saw only love gaze back. It but took my breath away. I wanted to find some excuse to get out, but all thoughts went mute to the touch and to the song. I felt his fingertips trace the line of my brow, I felt him caress my cheek, then my lips. I felt his desire to kiss them badly, but instead he traced so lightly as if to memorize its fullness, its shape in remembrance for the morning. And again I opened my eyes to see him there, tender and present. All I could do was breathe. I felt my chest rise and fall, my apprehension and desire visible to us both. The promise of it found in the gravity of my eyelids closing, then opening. My pulse quickened and there I found myself drowning in the raw emotion of what was felt but not translated. What passion yielded through two bodies whose distance fell unacknowledged in the presence of such binding heat. We may as well have been naked and intertwined in one another. That was what it felt like. I imagined letting his lips brush against mine with the same tenderness his hands knew... but then the song ended. And all that was gained, was suddenly lost. I could not get out of the car fast enough. I whispered goodbye and walked across the street, the light of the moon illuminating my white dress. I knew I must have looked like an angel to him. But I was fallen. |
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