He lay there sleeping innocently through the wind and the storm that was slowly taking over her in her mind. Soundly sleeping unaware of the confusion, denial, and the constant urge to touch him which she had been fighting, almost unsuccessfully, all night.
Only inches away from her, she could feel his sweet warmth as they shared a cramped bed. It was all she could think about. It was all she craved for at that moment.
Body warmth, the warmth of another’s touch, the feel of skin upon glorious skin and flesh upon flesh but more importantly it was his touch and his warmth and his flesh in particular that she had been craving for all night. His innocent heat, his sweet breath upon the air she shared with him, it was slowly driving her over the edge.
It was like the last memorable vision of a person before going blind, doubting forever and insanely wondering if the image she remembers is accurate and true. A thousand and one thoughts of him stroking his hair, hugging him, holding his hand, placing her hand on his shoulder and of her kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him, filled her head like a kaleidoscope of lust filled images. It left her wondering if whether she truly did like him or whether she just want to be loved, to feel the warmth.
The warmth of anyone who could, or rather who would return the warmth in which she was so desperate to give and even more desperate to receive. she could do nothing more than feign sleep beside him, closing her eyes and yet still watching his every move, his every breath.
And in pretending to be asleep, sleep finally came to her. Yet even in her dreams he haunted her, like a ghost with too much time on their hands. she dreamed of future and past denials, arguments with him and herself, a thousand faceless, nameless people and women. she dreamed of the warmth that a loved one brings the biting emptiness and cold, which she was so used to. she dreamed of life, of death and of love. And as she dreamed she felt him moving beside her in the way a sleeping person slowly tosses and turns.
Sheets slowly moved, the warmth of a blanket adding to his warmth, which was so close and yet unreachable and untouchable. The cold air from the fan insanely accentuating the warmth that emanated from him. she wanted to run, to turn somewhere, anywhere but here. she wanted to smash her head again and again, and again against the nearest wall. Anything to relieve her of what she wanted and yet could not have. she wanted to imagine that she didn’t like him, as if he were nothing to her, as if his smiles couldn’t melt the icebergs within her heart, but alas she couldn’t.
All she could do was traverse the thin line between the waking and the dreaming hoping that she could find solace in dreams. She was his friend and she was his; there was no changing this fact. A normal friendship so to speak except for the tension filled moments when her mind wavered and she felt that he could be more than just a friend.
Those moments were filled with hidden glances, “accidental” brushes of skin and the like which she, almost always, when caught gave thousands upon thousands of excuses for. Sometimes even placing the blame, if ever there was any, on his to alleviate any hints of her feelings for him.
Her mind now became unsure of the once stable friendship that they once had. Wondering whether to pursue this feeling she had and in the process giving up her friendship and dropping down her guard. It was how she felt even in her dreams and upon waking and seeing him sleeping beside her, so close and yet so far, she felt…more annoyed.
Annoyed at the situation she was in and even more annoyed at the way she acted or rather the way she failed to act whenever he was near. Annoyed at the words she clumsily put together whenever he would talk to her and of the thousands upon thousands of phrases, words, and lines, which she practiced night after night, that never even reached her lips.
But no one could blame her for feeling this way. It was the only way she knew how to react given this type of unknown situation.
It was natural a human reaction. she was only human after all… only human, she repeated again and again to herself in the hopes of her finding some reason to make things a little more bearable.
Then suddenly he turned around, facing her as he slept. she could see his face as clear as crystal even in the pitch-black room. It was as if he were glowing in the nighttime air. she closed her eyes doing everything possible, thinking of anything and everything to circumvent her temptations of holding him just once, of just stroking his hair, of just stealing one sweet kiss.
It was a different kind of hell for her as she closed her eyes and went numb and void of all feeling. The nine circles of hell combined all into one plus a tenth circle would be a close estimate to what she was going through.
she wanted to bash her head again and again against a wall.
she wanted to feel the crimson red heat of her blood and bits of her brain slowly dripping down her forehead, insanely, could chew rubber or steel, annoyed at her predicament.
she could do nothing… nothing but to look away and close her eyes and to let herself drown in her dreams and to let the storm of her mind rage on.
Only inches away from her, she could feel his sweet warmth as they shared a cramped bed. It was all she could think about. It was all she craved for at that moment.
Body warmth, the warmth of another’s touch, the feel of skin upon glorious skin and flesh upon flesh but more importantly it was his touch and his warmth and his flesh in particular that she had been craving for all night. His innocent heat, his sweet breath upon the air she shared with him, it was slowly driving her over the edge.
It was like the last memorable vision of a person before going blind, doubting forever and insanely wondering if the image she remembers is accurate and true. A thousand and one thoughts of him stroking his hair, hugging him, holding his hand, placing her hand on his shoulder and of her kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him, filled her head like a kaleidoscope of lust filled images. It left her wondering if whether she truly did like him or whether she just want to be loved, to feel the warmth.
The warmth of anyone who could, or rather who would return the warmth in which she was so desperate to give and even more desperate to receive. she could do nothing more than feign sleep beside him, closing her eyes and yet still watching his every move, his every breath.
And in pretending to be asleep, sleep finally came to her. Yet even in her dreams he haunted her, like a ghost with too much time on their hands. she dreamed of future and past denials, arguments with him and herself, a thousand faceless, nameless people and women. she dreamed of the warmth that a loved one brings the biting emptiness and cold, which she was so used to. she dreamed of life, of death and of love. And as she dreamed she felt him moving beside her in the way a sleeping person slowly tosses and turns.
Sheets slowly moved, the warmth of a blanket adding to his warmth, which was so close and yet unreachable and untouchable. The cold air from the fan insanely accentuating the warmth that emanated from him. she wanted to run, to turn somewhere, anywhere but here. she wanted to smash her head again and again, and again against the nearest wall. Anything to relieve her of what she wanted and yet could not have. she wanted to imagine that she didn’t like him, as if he were nothing to her, as if his smiles couldn’t melt the icebergs within her heart, but alas she couldn’t.
All she could do was traverse the thin line between the waking and the dreaming hoping that she could find solace in dreams. She was his friend and she was his; there was no changing this fact. A normal friendship so to speak except for the tension filled moments when her mind wavered and she felt that he could be more than just a friend.
Those moments were filled with hidden glances, “accidental” brushes of skin and the like which she, almost always, when caught gave thousands upon thousands of excuses for. Sometimes even placing the blame, if ever there was any, on his to alleviate any hints of her feelings for him.
Her mind now became unsure of the once stable friendship that they once had. Wondering whether to pursue this feeling she had and in the process giving up her friendship and dropping down her guard. It was how she felt even in her dreams and upon waking and seeing him sleeping beside her, so close and yet so far, she felt…more annoyed.
Annoyed at the situation she was in and even more annoyed at the way she acted or rather the way she failed to act whenever he was near. Annoyed at the words she clumsily put together whenever he would talk to her and of the thousands upon thousands of phrases, words, and lines, which she practiced night after night, that never even reached her lips.
But no one could blame her for feeling this way. It was the only way she knew how to react given this type of unknown situation.
It was natural a human reaction. she was only human after all… only human, she repeated again and again to herself in the hopes of her finding some reason to make things a little more bearable.
Then suddenly he turned around, facing her as he slept. she could see his face as clear as crystal even in the pitch-black room. It was as if he were glowing in the nighttime air. she closed her eyes doing everything possible, thinking of anything and everything to circumvent her temptations of holding him just once, of just stroking his hair, of just stealing one sweet kiss.
It was a different kind of hell for her as she closed her eyes and went numb and void of all feeling. The nine circles of hell combined all into one plus a tenth circle would be a close estimate to what she was going through.
she wanted to bash her head again and again against a wall.
she wanted to feel the crimson red heat of her blood and bits of her brain slowly dripping down her forehead, insanely, could chew rubber or steel, annoyed at her predicament.
she could do nothing… nothing but to look away and close her eyes and to let herself drown in her dreams and to let the storm of her mind rage on.
