Rating:
none
Description:
I wrote this for my own piece of mind.
I felt some thoughts nagging at me and this is how they came out on
paper. Sometimes
I feel like I understand things too much.
Often I feel thrown by the people that come into my life.
I feel like it’s a domino effect and I’m blessed, but I always try to
make sense of it.
“Why
do you push me away, all that I want is to give you love forever and ever and
ever.”
Dedication:
To JC. You
could never imagine how proud I am that you’re doing this.
I am proud to call myself a fan of yours and I am amazed every time I
even look at you.
You’re one in a billion and you’re truly the most talented person
I’ve ever seen in my life.
Thank you for somehow finding a way to save me and carry me through the
next few weeks, I owe you my life for that.
Please bring Lancie back to me. :-)
To
Kitten: I love you, I understand, and he loves you too.
In lifetimes before.
And forever.
Xoxo.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I
stared at him through the darkness of the room.
A small desk light was dimly lit next to him, and because of the way his
eyebrows are shaped, it cast small shadows all across his face.
He was wearing just a robe he had put on after a shower.
The curls on his head were still wet as his eyes shifted across the paper
in front of him. I hated when he
got into these moods. He just sat
at the desk with his journal open and a pen in his hand and just wrote whatever
came to mind. That was not the
problem, the problem was it wasn’t often it was this bad.
This only happened every so often and I could see something bothering
him, it was written across his face as clear as day.
It was times like this when I just watched him.
For hours he sat, doing just this, and the world seemed to disappear.
Most
people didn’t understand him. At points I felt I failed to do so as well, but I sure as
hell tried. And I was the only
person who would ever know him as well as I did, because he would never let
anyone closer than I. He sealed
himself off from certain things because he had to have his snow-globe. It was like meditation to him, it was healing, it was his own
little world that no one would ever be part of. It was truly what made him who he was and shaped him into
this gifted, talented, and amazing artist…and person.
He
didn’t have trouble ever shutting out the world.
Sometimes his concentration got broken or he couldn’t find it at all,
but that was just as rare as him not being able to sleep at night.
Each
time he sat down with that pen I knew he was physically here with me, but he was
elsewhere. He was sailing away
somewhere in his imagination, far from this room or any other room in this
world.
The
images and emotions he painted with his pen brought the paper to life.
His mind was so creative, so innovative, so fresh.
His pen wrote what exactly was in his mind at that moment, no lies and no
added lines to pretty it up. He was
simply talented enough to create something that perfect.
Away
from his world he created, when he was on planet Earth, he was always reserved.
He would flash that beautiful smile, sign autographs, go grocery
shopping, but somewhere in his mind he was always thinking.
Always creating, always somewhere partial to something else.
People
always whisper about him being the quiet one, but they don’t understand that
he needs that. He’s not as outgoing as Joey or as crazy as Chris.
He thinks tens times faster and sees things a thousand times clearer than
they do. He doesn’t need
attention like Justin, he just needs to physically be the dreams he creates on
paper. He needs to share them with
other people and let them sail away because if it’s even half as great as he
sees it, then he has succeeded.
But
he’s not always so quiet. He knows how to have fun, he knows how to be the normal
twenty-something he is. After all
his listeners know he’s not so shy sexually.
He learns from experience, not just things he’s done, but things he’s
heard and seen.
And
sexual, he is. He’s had his share
of fun, but he’s an expressive person. Sex
isn’t just sex to him. The way it
feels emotionally and physically blows his mind.
Almost like he can’t grasp how amazing and unearthly it is.
It’s spiritual as he feels every inch of himself, every breath on his
shoulder, every moan in his ear. He
can’t believe he is making another person feel this amazing and he himself
can’t believe he’s almost floating on water as he begins to lose control.
He’s
never had a problem expressing himself physically, it’s just whether he
chooses to do so or not. Sometimes
he gets moody…when suddenly he feels like that world he sails away to is hard
to find. It’s almost like he
hasn’t dreamt in weeks. He begins
to get antsy, moody, and paces the floors. But after a few days it comes back to him and he’s sitting
at his desk in meditation again.
I
walk up to him and place my hands on his shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles
that line his neck. For a few moments he has no idea I’m there because he’s
so focused on what’s in front of him. Seconds
later he looks up at me, his blue eyes bright with fresh and beautiful thoughts.
He smiles that loving smile and we exchange a knowing look.
“I
don’t want to disturb you…but…I was worried…”
He
set down his pen and stood up.
“Come
here,” he led me out of the room and into another room.
I
followed. He was so smooth and
loving in his mannerisms. It was
almost impossible to not comply with his every demand.
He
stood in front of the fireplace and pulled me towards him, his hand cupping my
face as I felt his fingers around the base of my neck.
I
looked up into his eyes, his face soft, the features that were once
concentrating on the old notebook paper, were now relaxed and flickering with
the light.
As
I stared in his eyes my fingers slid up his chest and found the edges of his
robe.
I
waited for him to stop me, but he didn’t as I began to slowly tug at the thick
fabric. The robe slid off his body
willingly, cascading at his feet in front of me.
The
light from the fire flickered orange off his chiseled body.
His hands repeated the same motion that mine did on his, accept they lingered around my body longer.
I
always felt like he was studying me, not with his eyes, but with his fingertips.
The way they danced around my body and silenced my lips.
“You
are so beautiful,” he whispered.
Any
man in the world could say it and it would never be anything like the way he
does. His voice, the emotion he
conveys with four simple words, it sends chills through my body.
His
hands began to lower me to the ground, on the soft rug in front of the fire.
There he lay on top of me, smiling down at me. Once he slid inside of me I saw a familiar look in his eyes. It was the same look he got when he sat with his journal and his pen. It was the same look as if he was sailing away somewhere peaceful and beautiful. It was his way of loving me, because I could bring him to that world. And oddly enough, he brought me into that world…and we sailed off together.