He knows what it is like to be afraid. He found it hard to believe not all had, but if the unrealistic could be true than he truly envied them. To live a life as fearless and reckless as you should being you are hypothetically given one is… well, the ideal approach to living. But he had long learned that the ideal route was a hard path to find, and his own path had been full of wrong turns and dead ends.
Over, and over, and over.
So fear had found him and he had found comfort in it. It had began in small doses by avoiding the big situations that made his heart pump, and finished with his ability to avoid even the smallest situations that created a slight churn in his stomach. He had fallen to his anxiety and mastered the art of avoidance in it’s truest most destructive form, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to change.
He had lost himself.
Her smell, it finds his nose like a searching beam of light and he saw her with every inch of her scent that wafted into his flaring nostrils. The purple-painted stallion began his brisk journey to find her source despite the egging critique that cried in his mind.
You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re letting her down. Stop coming back and then leaving her.
But he couldn’t stop. She had become the drug he never knew he needed; breathing her air electrified him and he needed her shock.
Whether the heat or his own mind had worked up the lather that tainted his silver chest and girth, he is unsure of. What he is sure of is the movement and hastiness of his stride had masked her perfume and he comes to a halt to gather his senses.
And then her voice cuts through the air with the usual precision her tone carried followed with her effortless breathless finish on his name and his eyes find her glowing aura so instinctively that it almost feels like coming home.
“You always find me,” he says because it’s the only words his mind can conjure when so much begs to shout.
@[leonora]
Over, and over, and over.
So fear had found him and he had found comfort in it. It had began in small doses by avoiding the big situations that made his heart pump, and finished with his ability to avoid even the smallest situations that created a slight churn in his stomach. He had fallen to his anxiety and mastered the art of avoidance in it’s truest most destructive form, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to change.
He had lost himself.
Her smell, it finds his nose like a searching beam of light and he saw her with every inch of her scent that wafted into his flaring nostrils. The purple-painted stallion began his brisk journey to find her source despite the egging critique that cried in his mind.
You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re letting her down. Stop coming back and then leaving her.
But he couldn’t stop. She had become the drug he never knew he needed; breathing her air electrified him and he needed her shock.
Whether the heat or his own mind had worked up the lather that tainted his silver chest and girth, he is unsure of. What he is sure of is the movement and hastiness of his stride had masked her perfume and he comes to a halt to gather his senses.
And then her voice cuts through the air with the usual precision her tone carried followed with her effortless breathless finish on his name and his eyes find her glowing aura so instinctively that it almost feels like coming home.
“You always find me,” he says because it’s the only words his mind can conjure when so much begs to shout.
@[leonora]
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
your young men will see visions,
your old men will dream dreams.
- Acts 2:17
your young men will see visions,
your old men will dream dreams.
- Acts 2:17