I can only picture his face in fragments now.
His eyes, his lips, his nose.
This happens, i suppose after i haven't looked at him for awhile, his entirety fades a little from a picture in my mind, into fragments.
Truth be told I haven't looked at him properly for more than the time it takes to achieve restful slumber. But the feeling is still the same. The tingle. The butterflies. The cold sweat of lust, of longing.
I fear this shall never change. Whether i was to see him again or not, this feeling he unleashed in me shall never fade. It shall never fragment.
It always happens when you least expect it, isn't that how the old saying goes?
This was more than an unexpected happening, more than a fateful meeting. This changed me, and i chose to betray my morality and his...because we simply couldn't not.
Never have i been so deeply magnetised to any person or thing as i was to him, as i am to him.
Putty when he's on my mind. Putty at the idea that such a man breathes, and has breathed me in.
Betraying all consequence, I think we both knew the moment we saw one another, that something shifted that night. Breaking what we once considered our devotions, into fragments.
I don't know what the future holds for us, or even if it holds an 'us' at all. But when i close my eyes and dream i know that he is the future i wish to hold. I could live the rest of our lives in my imagination in an instant. A beautiful, Idealistic instant........Reality seems bleak and unreal when i open my eyes again.
I guess looking back, it all transpired as God intended, or as the Universe intended, or as the stars that hold such consequence saw fit. A bittersweet love that existed only for a moment in time, for a fragment of my life.
It's true that i have been in love before. That i have loved, and been loved well, and badly, and happily, and sadly.
Perhaps i have fallen too quickly at times into another, but always with conviction, and always with all of myself.
These loves were long affairs, timely relationships of deep and profound exploration of each other, open in their existence. My life became his, and his mine.
Every time.
WHY then, does a fragment mean more to me than any of those other loves i have known? Why is it i am saturated in desire for a man I cannot explore, or even call? A man who I would give the world to, but cannot for he is already walking in this life with another girl.
I can't not, but I don't know how to.
And now i sit here, no matter where i am and I want for something that i just can't have.
He burned a love shaped heart on my soul, he extracted the piece like a child's toy and he hid it, and I can't get it back
