Love

I write down a lot events …things people say ….I do this as a way of never forgetting ….never giving up and also to remember how much I love and adore those who have stayed by me when others were cruel ,cowards and too scared or had no clue how to help me. ...i thought if for the simple fact someday I did lose my mind or take my life …this would be a record of who I loved that life was good ..bad and beautiful all at the same time.

September 1995

he is lying on the bed when I walk into the room, the guitar propped up on his stomach. He has loose pants on and a bare chest, what a perfect painting he would make I think. His fingers slide rhythmically along the guitar strings, he is playing melodic and beautiful to a Spanish song .I feel like I have heard it before, but maybe it is just because it sounds so much like him. His eyes so dark like he has swallowed handfuls of night in them with every blink. He stares at me but I can quit find what he is thinking .I have never been good with night, my hands now feeling blindly their way in his dark. He is beautiful and I know he has completely given himself to me ,he did the moment we met. This thought fills me with both sadness and desire, that I may never completely give myself to anyone. I look at him and know how easily I could break this man. How horrible I am to even think of breaking someone that loves me so much.

I climb on to the bed; touch his feet and legs that are laid out in front of him. He smiles that boyish smile at me that always catches me off guard for such a serious man. The smile mixed with the melancholy eyes is what made me want him the day we met. I rub his feet and legs and look at him like I have understood him for years, even though we have only know one another a few months. He goes to sit up to stop playing “no please don’t” I tell him .He lies back down and continues the music plucking sadly at the stings. I slide down his pants, I expect him to move when I do this but he keeps on playing. I take off my clothes and side my body onto his. He stops playing and reaches out to me. “Please keep playing” I say and he does .He plays the same song only more aching and beautiful then before. His dark eyes close as I continue to make love to him, the notes matching the rhythm of our bodies. This feels at this moment like freedom. I devour with my senses his face, his movements ,his scent, his music ,his everything in this moment of desire hoping in years to come I will never lose this image in my mind. His eyes open and close letting me see his light he tries so hard to hide. This is when I know I love him, this is when I see this enigma of a man in his entirety .I watch as his brow creases in between his eye brows, this expression is only on his face I know when he is his most vulnerable, his most passionate. He comes and the music stops. He puts down the guitar he loves carelessly so he can hug me, something I know he adores so much more. His callous hands glide so gently on me like I am fragile up and down my back and into my hair. This man I know will never want to hurt me but I know in my mind what I have made seemingly meeker men do to me. I try to hold back my tears. I try to hold onto the freedom of this moment but it is slipping like water though my hands until it is gone and I remember what I am, what others and I have forced me to become.

I sit up and look out the window my world is beginning to change in front of me and I don’t recognize any of it. The leaves are blowing and circling the air in loneliness trying to find one another, aren’t we all? I think. The air is cool and haunting but suddenly the wind stops the leaves fall crashing to the ground .Miguel is hypnotically tracing my twisted spine , his fingers slide on me like they do on the guitar strings and I wonder what song I am in his mind. He stops and peers out the open window “feels like we are in the center of the hurricane”. He says. I silently wonder what will happen when we step outside. I lay my cool body next to his warmth and he holds me tight. We watch the leaves catch the wind again and again circling the air in there constant search.

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Tags:

april, change, depression, erotic, happiness, love, lust, man, mansilla, music, need, sex, want and woman