Notes from a diary...04:22 Dec 05 2010
Times Read: 1,766
The cool sheets enveloped his skin and welcomed him to warm them with a soothing comfort. This week was long. Too long, it seemed. Longer than seven days but he felt as though he didn't accomplish anything. Right now he wanted nothing more than to feel her skin pressed against his; to lay with her now, in this bed. Limbs wound around each other like ivy. He closed his eyes for a moment of rest and felt the aches in his muscles melting away into the comfort of the downy mattress. He allowed himself to drift…
A moment later, he was brushed from the edge of sleep by the sound of the door slowly opening. The floor creaked. The unmistakable sounds of her foot steps as she entered the room, barefoot as always. In his sleepy haze, he tried to acknowledge her but only managed to turn his head a bit toward her and audibly sigh.
She slipped into bed with him, pulling the comforter up to his chin and laying an arm over his shoulder. He instinctively reached out to her, pulling her leg over his hip before wrapping his arm around the small of her back and pulling her closer. His foot met with her foot sending a slight shock of cold through him. But in the comfort of feeling her close, he trapped her foot between his feet and invited her to place her other foot on him, to warm them faster.
He breathed deep and sighed with the comfort of this closeness, and found his head once again full of surreal thoughts that could easily turn into dreams.
He felt her hand touch his face. Her soft fingers tracing lines on his jaw, on his cheek bone and on his forehead. Her touch was electric to him and set every nerve on end. She ran her fingers over his hair, stroking him as one might do when consoling a saddened child. He was relaxed; again on the brink of sleep but kept awake by the stimulation now charging through his skin. She touched his eyelid gently. Softly running a finger over the shape of his eye and feeling the soft skin that surrounded it. He submitted to her with his head full of thoughts. It seemed a bit odd to him, as he thought about it, that she would touch him here, in this way, but felt relieved that she wanted to explore his body. All of his body.
He pondered this as his mind rewound the movie that has been his life.
For something that he wanted – this touching, an exploration of what made him, him. A human. A man. All the parts that created him physically. None of his previous lovers ever touched him this way. None seemed willing to explore who he was. He wanted this, so badly. Not having this made him feel grotesque and unlovable.
Unwanted.
No one wants to feel unwanted. His mind spun in circles around this sensation. A self-reflection as to why his emotions would go to such extremes – after all, was it that important?
Somehow for him, it was.
And having it for this brief moment; feeling that it was the first time in his aging life someone was willing to take every bit of him for their own, he relaxed content and let sleep find him once more…
COMMENTS
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Blackstaff
06:09 Dec 27 2010
Is it indifference to dream but never accomplish those dreams because of the resentment from past failures? And that resentment was because of a contemptible situation that interfered with the original stasis of blissful ignorance? ;)