06-30-2016, 12:48 PM
Slowly, the fire beneath my skin fades into a gentle glowing warmth where she touches me. My racing heart eases, and I'm just holding onto my friend again, curled up in the embrace of someone I love, someone who loves me even when I am at my most broken. I know exactly what she means when she talks about our lingering issues. I almost laugh; it's such an understatement in my case. Still, I nod, a wry little half-smile curving up one corner of my mouth.
“I'm not...it's not something I'm ready for yet.” It's too soon, we're too young, and I'm not ready for that kind of responsibility. I'm still fighting not to be a shattered wreck of a boy most days, let alone a man responsible for a kid. Or kids. Their well-being, their safety, making sure they're okay. Helping them work through things that still haunt me. I'm not there yet. “But someday. It sounds...right.”
She sighs my name and presses her lips against my spine, and I try not to think about the warmth that radiates from her touch, or the way it makes my skin ache for more than that gentle, innocent brush of her lips against me. “I love you too, Lee,” I murmur, closing my eyes and resting my head on her back. “I'm so glad you like it. When we're older, and I'm...” A little less broken. A little better patched-together, a little more sure of myself and the love my family pours out at my feet with every breath.
“And I'll ask Argo, too, when the time is right.” He was never lost like we were; maybe he won't feel the same way. But the thought of leaving him behind makes my chest hurt, crushes my ribs against the still-jagged insides and slices me open. Not seeing his smile, not feeling the warmth of his body curling up against me, missing out on those playful touches or the light in his dark eyes...it makes my heart ache just imagining a life without him in it every day. I want him with me, or want to be with him. So I hope that maybe, someday...
I don't even know anymore, it's all too tangled up and confusing. I just hope, for once, without telling myself I don't deserve to. Without telling myself it's selfish or wrong. I hope for a day when life makes sense, when the yearning in my chest settles into something real, when the jagged edges smooth and I find peace in the touch of the people I love. For more than just a moment or two, more than just a breath.
Maybe it's not so impossible after all.
“I'm not...it's not something I'm ready for yet.” It's too soon, we're too young, and I'm not ready for that kind of responsibility. I'm still fighting not to be a shattered wreck of a boy most days, let alone a man responsible for a kid. Or kids. Their well-being, their safety, making sure they're okay. Helping them work through things that still haunt me. I'm not there yet. “But someday. It sounds...right.”
She sighs my name and presses her lips against my spine, and I try not to think about the warmth that radiates from her touch, or the way it makes my skin ache for more than that gentle, innocent brush of her lips against me. “I love you too, Lee,” I murmur, closing my eyes and resting my head on her back. “I'm so glad you like it. When we're older, and I'm...” A little less broken. A little better patched-together, a little more sure of myself and the love my family pours out at my feet with every breath.
“And I'll ask Argo, too, when the time is right.” He was never lost like we were; maybe he won't feel the same way. But the thought of leaving him behind makes my chest hurt, crushes my ribs against the still-jagged insides and slices me open. Not seeing his smile, not feeling the warmth of his body curling up against me, missing out on those playful touches or the light in his dark eyes...it makes my heart ache just imagining a life without him in it every day. I want him with me, or want to be with him. So I hope that maybe, someday...
I don't even know anymore, it's all too tangled up and confusing. I just hope, for once, without telling myself I don't deserve to. Without telling myself it's selfish or wrong. I hope for a day when life makes sense, when the yearning in my chest settles into something real, when the jagged edges smooth and I find peace in the touch of the people I love. For more than just a moment or two, more than just a breath.
Maybe it's not so impossible after all.