Here Comes the Rain Again
Here Comes the Rain Again
I just can’t hold it in any longer. I need him. I deeply and truly need him. I know it’s late, well at this hour, early would be more appropriate. I can’t keep him waiting any longer. I need to be with him. I don’t even bother putting on my shoes or jacket despite the frigid drizzles of early spring 4 the night air. The rain races around me as I run through the streets. I need to know if he needs me as badly and I need him. I need to know that I’m not just throwing my life away on some game; some cruel illusion where my happiness will be pulled out from under me as soon as I feel safe.
I’m almost numb to the pain of the rough and broken pieces of pavement against my feet. All I can think about is him. His soft smile. The way the light glows, perfectly rendered in his deep amber-chocolate irises. The way his smell captivates me in ways that science and even faith fail to explain. I’m losing control of myself and my emotions and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. It’s every dream and nightmare rolled into one.
Flashes of him laughing, brushing his teeth, laying on his stomach reading and sitting playing his piano flash through my mind. The smallest things that bring him joy.I love the way the golden light frames his heart-shaped face, the softness of his jawline and the pudge that gathers at his hips. I feel an almost immeasurable pain radiating through my chest as I run, but I know that it has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the emotional. There’s just something completely infectious about him. I’m losing myself in him and for the moment it’s just what I need. Or what I think I need. He's driving me now. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I’m ready to leap off this cliff and into the waters of the unknown to be with him; explore and experience with him. I can only be hopeful that he is willing and ready to take the plunge with me.
....
When I reach his door I’m afraid to ring the bell, fearing the rejection that always plagued me. I'm afraid to look into his eyes and see reactions; see me my own ugliness staring back at me. ‘This is it. Everything has been building up to this.’ Now’s not the time to let self-doubt cripple you.’ I tell myself, but it does nothing to soothe the anxiety that is making me feel almost entirely numb. I take a deep breath before ringing the bell. My blood pressure is throbbing behind my ears and behind my eyes. I’m nearly swept away as he pulls the door open, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his messy curls even wilder. He looks up and sees me. “What are you doing here? Is something wr-?” I don’t give him the chance to finish his sentence. I jump into him, wrapping my chilled and saturated arms around his warm frame and press my lips into his. “I need you. I can’t be without you. It’s more than just wanting to not be alone, wanting to be with you. I can’t-” His fingers tangle into my hair as he draws me into him once again.
I breathe into him as we break apart. He sweeps me up and I wrap my legs around his hip. He’s barely even shut the door before he’s pulling at my top. “Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He whispers in my ear. “You must be freezing.” In one swift, fluid moment one arm is free of its cloth prison and once again I find my lips upon him; I start at his soft jawline and work my way down to the base of his throat. His right-hand caresses my shoulder blade and works it’s way down my back, nimble, strong and passionate, stopping only when his hand is underneath the left side of my bottom. He knows I want him. He knows he can have anything he wants and I'm willing.
I throw my head back and pull off my shirt. We stumble into the bathroom, breaking apart momentarily to remove the rest of our clothing. “I never want you to feel alone.” His voice like melting caramel washing over me, that need to be loved feeling almost sedated. "Sometimes with you, all I manage is to feel alone." I whisper to him. He stops, momentarily, skimming his lips across my shoulders. "I never want you to have to feel that way." "The problem that is I do...and then I crave you. I always need you, No matter how much of an arse-" He kisses me. He's wanting to silence me and I'm wanting him to. I've lost my train of thought. I'm trying to collect my balance as he slides my joggers down my legs. "So long and colourful...Created by man for a man...how fitting." He looks up and winks at me, knowing the lines of girlfriends who's thin and fumbling fingers made their ways along them before. There's something more...safe, connecting when his chubby fingers trail around my ink-stained legs. I don't wait for him to ask; I slide his pyjama bottoms down and he steps out of the leg holes one by one.
I watch him as he slowly turns the water on and tests it. I don't have to wait for him to ask me if I want to go first; he sweeps me off my feet and carries me through the glass doors of the shower, using his foot to shut it. "I'm glad you're starting to warm up. I was scared something was gonna happen to you and I'd have a corpse on my floor." "Haha, very funny." He pushes back my wet and icy fringe before running my head under the warm water. He holds me close to him for a few seconds, allowing the scalding water to caress my legs. "That outta sort you out." "I'm starting to get the feeling back in them." I almost want to laugh at it and I'm unsure why.
"First let's get you back up to temperature, then we can talk about it." He lathers up the soap and begins to wash my chest and arms. The soap smells of vanilla and cedarwood; it heavily perfumes the air and for a few moments I'm intoxicated by the smell of it rather than him. "Do you want to stand and I hold your hips?" I nod, unable to get the words out. His question catches me off guard, but it's not completely unexpected. I need to tell him. This just can't be about our vibrant and rampant sexual desires. I mean, I know I can use my body to talk to him, but this is one of the few times I'd rather use my words. "I need to know that you want me." I whisper to him, the water cascading down my head and shoulders. "Of course I want you, I've wanted you since the day I met you." He leans in to kiss me again, but I push him away. "No, I mean, I need to know that you want me as a person, for all that I am and all that I'm not." I press my back against the lukewarm tile of the shower. He leans his chest into mine. "What are the things you aren't? Show me what you mean?" I nuzzle into him as the water pours down on us. "I-" The words get stuck in my throat when I'm faced with his sex appeal. All that I wanted, no needed to say has flittered out of my open mouth and into the steam. "Don't worry. Stay the night, they'll be plenty of time for talking later." He grabs my shoulders gently and pulls me into him. "Why don't you start off using your hips to show me how you feel?"
I know I should be frustrated or even angry with him when he says this, but instead, I feel invigorated, alive. He still wants me. It's more than just sex. I nip at his collarbones, singling to him that I'm ready for him. He picks me up once again, this time pinning me between the wall and him. "Just relax." He whispers to me, his voice like melting chocolate. "Let it all out of you." He slides into me and begins a slow rhythm, his arms still wrapped around me. I brace against him, pushing more into him, consuming him. "I love you, you know that?" He whispers into my shoulder, his voice soft.
"Do you want to tell me?" He sits beside me, sombre, not his usual cocky self. "Something was different with you. Is everything okay?" "I want to so badly, but I'm deathly afraid of what you'll say or do. I'm afraid of you just walking away. You've become such a part of my life, claimed so many firsts for me and in a way have pioneered me. But it's to the point where I feel like I'm not a person anymore with you. I worry that I've given so much of myself to you that I have nothing filling me up on the inside because you don't share with me. You're distant and cold when I need you most. I don't need to be left wondering if you're going to reach for me when I need you. I don't need the fear that I will wake up one day and you won't be there. You've built up such a wall between out emotional intimacy." My eyes are brimming with tears when I look up at him.
He's silent for almost three minutes before he breathes in deep and when he opens his mouth again, his voice comes out barely a whisper. "I don't want to push you away. I'm so confused about who I am and where I'm going...I didn't take into account the real feelings that you have for me. I was either blind or selfish, probably more than selfish...I shouldn't have left you chasing lights." I feel my heart in the back of my throat. I ran all the way here only to face the cold slap in the face of rejection I was expecting. I was a complete fool to come here. Almost as if he can read my thoughts he wraps his arms around here, pushing his soft almost double chin into my shoulder. "But I'm glad you came...if you hadn't I'd not known how you felt...nor do I think I'd be able to start opening up to you." I squeeze the loofa and start washing the soft flesh of his chest. "You know...you kind of sound like that douche bag from 50 Shades of Grey...you know Christian." His face sours. "Oh, not even close. We're more fucked up than him and better looking than that pair. I can't hide my smirk at his comment. "Well, you're only half right." "True, neither of our mothers was a crackwhore." Sometimes he is so impossible.
I throw my head back and pull off my shirt. We stumble into the bathroom, breaking apart momentarily to remove the rest of our clothing. “I never want you to feel alone.” His voice like melting caramel washing over me, that need to be loved feeling almost sedated. "Sometimes with you, all I manage is to feel alone." I whisper to him. He stops, momentarily, skimming his lips across my shoulders. "I never want you to have to feel that way." "The problem that is I do...and then I crave you. I always need you, No matter how much of an arse-" He kisses me. He's wanting to silence me and I'm wanting him to. I've lost my train of thought. I'm trying to collect my balance as he slides my joggers down my legs. "So long and colourful...Created by man for a man...how fitting." He looks up and winks at me, knowing the lines of girlfriends who's thin and fumbling fingers made their ways along them before. There's something more...safe, connecting when his chubby fingers trail around my ink-stained legs. I don't wait for him to ask; I slide his pyjama bottoms down and he steps out of the leg holes one by one.
I watch him as he slowly turns the water on and tests it. I don't have to wait for him to ask me if I want to go first; he sweeps me off my feet and carries me through the glass doors of the shower, using his foot to shut it. "I'm glad you're starting to warm up. I was scared something was gonna happen to you and I'd have a corpse on my floor." "Haha, very funny." He pushes back my wet and icy fringe before running my head under the warm water. He holds me close to him for a few seconds, allowing the scalding water to caress my legs. "That outta sort you out." "I'm starting to get the feeling back in them." I almost want to laugh at it and I'm unsure why.
"First let's get you back up to temperature, then we can talk about it." He lathers up the soap and begins to wash my chest and arms. The soap smells of vanilla and cedarwood; it heavily perfumes the air and for a few moments I'm intoxicated by the smell of it rather than him. "Do you want to stand and I hold your hips?" I nod, unable to get the words out. His question catches me off guard, but it's not completely unexpected. I need to tell him. This just can't be about our vibrant and rampant sexual desires. I mean, I know I can use my body to talk to him, but this is one of the few times I'd rather use my words. "I need to know that you want me." I whisper to him, the water cascading down my head and shoulders. "Of course I want you, I've wanted you since the day I met you." He leans in to kiss me again, but I push him away. "No, I mean, I need to know that you want me as a person, for all that I am and all that I'm not." I press my back against the lukewarm tile of the shower. He leans his chest into mine. "What are the things you aren't? Show me what you mean?" I nuzzle into him as the water pours down on us. "I-" The words get stuck in my throat when I'm faced with his sex appeal. All that I wanted, no needed to say has flittered out of my open mouth and into the steam. "Don't worry. Stay the night, they'll be plenty of time for talking later." He grabs my shoulders gently and pulls me into him. "Why don't you start off using your hips to show me how you feel?"
I know I should be frustrated or even angry with him when he says this, but instead, I feel invigorated, alive. He still wants me. It's more than just sex. I nip at his collarbones, singling to him that I'm ready for him. He picks me up once again, this time pinning me between the wall and him. "Just relax." He whispers to me, his voice like melting chocolate. "Let it all out of you." He slides into me and begins a slow rhythm, his arms still wrapped around me. I brace against him, pushing more into him, consuming him. "I love you, you know that?" He whispers into my shoulder, his voice soft.
"Do you want to tell me?" He sits beside me, sombre, not his usual cocky self. "Something was different with you. Is everything okay?" "I want to so badly, but I'm deathly afraid of what you'll say or do. I'm afraid of you just walking away. You've become such a part of my life, claimed so many firsts for me and in a way have pioneered me. But it's to the point where I feel like I'm not a person anymore with you. I worry that I've given so much of myself to you that I have nothing filling me up on the inside because you don't share with me. You're distant and cold when I need you most. I don't need to be left wondering if you're going to reach for me when I need you. I don't need the fear that I will wake up one day and you won't be there. You've built up such a wall between out emotional intimacy." My eyes are brimming with tears when I look up at him.
He's silent for almost three minutes before he breathes in deep and when he opens his mouth again, his voice comes out barely a whisper. "I don't want to push you away. I'm so confused about who I am and where I'm going...I didn't take into account the real feelings that you have for me. I was either blind or selfish, probably more than selfish...I shouldn't have left you chasing lights." I feel my heart in the back of my throat. I ran all the way here only to face the cold slap in the face of rejection I was expecting. I was a complete fool to come here. Almost as if he can read my thoughts he wraps his arms around here, pushing his soft almost double chin into my shoulder. "But I'm glad you came...if you hadn't I'd not known how you felt...nor do I think I'd be able to start opening up to you." I squeeze the loofa and start washing the soft flesh of his chest. "You know...you kind of sound like that douche bag from 50 Shades of Grey...you know Christian." His face sours. "Oh, not even close. We're more fucked up than him and better looking than that pair. I can't hide my smirk at his comment. "Well, you're only half right." "True, neither of our mothers was a crackwhore." Sometimes he is so impossible.
Together we throw ourselves onto his unmade bed, sending a pillow soaring to the ground. “I want you to see my soul.” I whisper to him, climbing onto of him, his damp skin pressed into mine. “I want you to dive into me and never surface. I want you to live inside of me forever, safe and painless. I know it’s an unrealistic view to hold, but I want you to at least feel okay when you’re with me.” I grind my hips into his “You know how I told you that I feel more alone when I'm with you, well that's true but it's far more complex than that. I feel more than okay when I’m with you. I feel loved, adored and safe. You offer me more than I could ever dare dream or wish for. And possibly more than I could ever deserve.” I slide down so that we're chest to chest. He moves so that he's more comfortable with my weight on him. "I'm unable to stay, but unwilling to leave." Once again his fingers are dancing across my skin, this time around my navel. I expect him to pull away or caress me, but instead, he reaches for my hand, only slightly smaller than his own, and inmeshes his fingers with mine. "I don't want you to go. I..." His voice falters. "I need you too." I can tell he wants to look away, but he's so intent on trying to see me; he's wanting to comfort me.
He looks so young in the dim light, for a minute it's like we're both teenagers again. "I wish I could go back you know? Go back to when I was a small child. I want to go back to where I was filled with wonder and amusement. I want to go back to a time where I held a future in my hands...before the darkness before I was beaten and broken and made to be afraid. You take me back, I don't think you realise what you do for me." "What do I do besides annoy you and drive you wild with anticipation?" He strokes the left side of my hip with his free hand. "You make life alright. You're my light, banishing the darkness. You fill me with that same sort of wonder I used to desperately cling to. And I don't want to spend a life chasing promises." "There's only one promise that I'd love to chase and that's the promise that I treat you as you deserve to be treated. I know I've been a dick lately, I took it out on you. I didn't know what to say or even how to say it. I knew you knew something was wrong...I wanted that to be enough, but I see now that it wasn't; that it almost resulted in everything falling apart."
"I'd love to believe that there is a place either here or somewhere else that could keep us together, lost in moments like this, but that's not realistic at all. It only does well to keep us longing and wishing for a happy ending that either is neither plausible or maybe even rewarding. It makes us forget the here and now. It blinds us to what it means to live and breathe, what takes us beyond the simple act of existing. It changes the way we think; it makes us numb to the actuality that we don't have unlimited time together, that we won't know how or when we will end, or the aftermath of that, should there be one. I want to know that when I draw breath for the last time that I spend every moment with you, never taking you for granted and that you never took me for granted. I'm rambling here, but I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't want to ramble my life away...I want to experience it with you." He falls silent, his eyes watching me intently, studying my features. It's as if he's looking for some sort of deceit. What he doesn't know is that I've laid out all my cards or maybe he does.
He pulls me off him so that I'm laying next to him, our fingers returned to their knitted position. "I don't want to ramble my life away either. I know how you feel. I need to be better at keeping my promises and communicating. You've never hidden how you felt from me; you've shown it in your words and actions. To some extent, I was overwhelmed that someone loved me that much. I was in a state of disbelief that someone would care so deeply for me because I still don't feel worthy of it. Therapy can tell me differently a million different ways, but nothing will change until I feel ready to accept changes. Maybe I'll never be ready...what I'm sure of is that I don't want you feeling like I take you for granted. I have in the past, I don't want to deny that, but I also want you to know that it was through no fault of yours that I did that. I was scared and small." I poke his stomach. "You? Small?" He snickers. "Oh, let me get this out, will you?" He smirks. "You know what I mean right?" "I do." This time I pull him over to me so that he's just about on top of me. "I sleep better with you here." He nuzzles into me. "I sleep better here too." We lay in perfect silence, listening to our unifying heartbeats as time begins to lull us to the land of slumber, where memories are oceans and the sky is lit with opportunity. A land where nothing fades and nothing hurts. A land where he is mine and I am his forever more.
He looks so young in the dim light, for a minute it's like we're both teenagers again. "I wish I could go back you know? Go back to when I was a small child. I want to go back to where I was filled with wonder and amusement. I want to go back to a time where I held a future in my hands...before the darkness before I was beaten and broken and made to be afraid. You take me back, I don't think you realise what you do for me." "What do I do besides annoy you and drive you wild with anticipation?" He strokes the left side of my hip with his free hand. "You make life alright. You're my light, banishing the darkness. You fill me with that same sort of wonder I used to desperately cling to. And I don't want to spend a life chasing promises." "There's only one promise that I'd love to chase and that's the promise that I treat you as you deserve to be treated. I know I've been a dick lately, I took it out on you. I didn't know what to say or even how to say it. I knew you knew something was wrong...I wanted that to be enough, but I see now that it wasn't; that it almost resulted in everything falling apart."
"I'd love to believe that there is a place either here or somewhere else that could keep us together, lost in moments like this, but that's not realistic at all. It only does well to keep us longing and wishing for a happy ending that either is neither plausible or maybe even rewarding. It makes us forget the here and now. It blinds us to what it means to live and breathe, what takes us beyond the simple act of existing. It changes the way we think; it makes us numb to the actuality that we don't have unlimited time together, that we won't know how or when we will end, or the aftermath of that, should there be one. I want to know that when I draw breath for the last time that I spend every moment with you, never taking you for granted and that you never took me for granted. I'm rambling here, but I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't want to ramble my life away...I want to experience it with you." He falls silent, his eyes watching me intently, studying my features. It's as if he's looking for some sort of deceit. What he doesn't know is that I've laid out all my cards or maybe he does.
He pulls me off him so that I'm laying next to him, our fingers returned to their knitted position. "I don't want to ramble my life away either. I know how you feel. I need to be better at keeping my promises and communicating. You've never hidden how you felt from me; you've shown it in your words and actions. To some extent, I was overwhelmed that someone loved me that much. I was in a state of disbelief that someone would care so deeply for me because I still don't feel worthy of it. Therapy can tell me differently a million different ways, but nothing will change until I feel ready to accept changes. Maybe I'll never be ready...what I'm sure of is that I don't want you feeling like I take you for granted. I have in the past, I don't want to deny that, but I also want you to know that it was through no fault of yours that I did that. I was scared and small." I poke his stomach. "You? Small?" He snickers. "Oh, let me get this out, will you?" He smirks. "You know what I mean right?" "I do." This time I pull him over to me so that he's just about on top of me. "I sleep better with you here." He nuzzles into me. "I sleep better here too." We lay in perfect silence, listening to our unifying heartbeats as time begins to lull us to the land of slumber, where memories are oceans and the sky is lit with opportunity. A land where nothing fades and nothing hurts. A land where he is mine and I am his forever more.
Photo Credit 1: Rainy London Spring Photo
Lars Plougmann
Lars Plougmann
Photo Credit 2: Shower
Unknown (If you know please let me know so I can credit them)
Photo Credit 3: Nifty Room
Unknown (If you know please let me know so I can credit them)
Photo Credit 3: Nifty Room
Comments
Post a Comment