I'd be lying if said that these old wounds in my heart still don't throb from time to time.
I'd be lying to myself if I said that they didn't exist.
I'd be lying to you if I said I don't think of you anymore.
I keep lying when all I want is the truth.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Client
He was nervous. He never did this before and it would be his first time.
"Relax" she said as she started to unbutton his shirt.
He looked into her eyes - a beautiful brown. His nervousness started to fade as he lost himself in her gaze.
"That's better..." she reached for his belt and undid the buckle. She slid his pants down onto the floor and as she started to reach for his boxers, he grabbed her hands.
"Umm...." "Is everything okay?" "Yeah...just..." He put her hands on his chest.
She could feel the beating of his heart. Strangely enough the beating was steady and not rapid. He then took her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her in closer.
He spoke to her in a hushed voice.
"Can we stay like this...for a while?"
He placed his head on her shoulder. What happened next surprised her. He started to cry. Softly at first, but as the minutes passed his crying became more intense. At this moment she figured out his intentions.
She knew the man who was crying in her arms didn't want sex. He only wanted the company of someone. To feel the warmth of another body. Before her was a broken man, someone who could no longer carry the burden of his world on his shoulders. She held him closer.
"It's okay. Let it out. You'll be fine." She whispered softly to him as she ran her fingers through his hair.
The two sat on the bed for what seemed like hours, the man baring his soul to her through his tears, the embrace they shared the ears he was yearning for. Through all this she comforted him, continued to run her fingers through his hair, occasionally whispering words of encouragement.
Eventually his crying stopped. He had fallen asleep in her embrace. She looked down at the man and set him on the bed gently as to not disturb his sleep. She took the blanket and covered the man, kissed him softly on the forehead and began to gather her belongings.
As she started to leave the room, she noticed that he had placed money on the small nightstand next to the bed. She took enough money for breakfast and walked out the door. As she left the room she turned around for one last glimpse of the broken man.
"Sweet dreams. You'll be alright."
"Relax" she said as she started to unbutton his shirt.
He looked into her eyes - a beautiful brown. His nervousness started to fade as he lost himself in her gaze.
"That's better..." she reached for his belt and undid the buckle. She slid his pants down onto the floor and as she started to reach for his boxers, he grabbed her hands.
"Umm...." "Is everything okay?" "Yeah...just..." He put her hands on his chest.
She could feel the beating of his heart. Strangely enough the beating was steady and not rapid. He then took her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her in closer.
He spoke to her in a hushed voice.
"Can we stay like this...for a while?"
He placed his head on her shoulder. What happened next surprised her. He started to cry. Softly at first, but as the minutes passed his crying became more intense. At this moment she figured out his intentions.
She knew the man who was crying in her arms didn't want sex. He only wanted the company of someone. To feel the warmth of another body. Before her was a broken man, someone who could no longer carry the burden of his world on his shoulders. She held him closer.
"It's okay. Let it out. You'll be fine." She whispered softly to him as she ran her fingers through his hair.
The two sat on the bed for what seemed like hours, the man baring his soul to her through his tears, the embrace they shared the ears he was yearning for. Through all this she comforted him, continued to run her fingers through his hair, occasionally whispering words of encouragement.
Eventually his crying stopped. He had fallen asleep in her embrace. She looked down at the man and set him on the bed gently as to not disturb his sleep. She took the blanket and covered the man, kissed him softly on the forehead and began to gather her belongings.
As she started to leave the room, she noticed that he had placed money on the small nightstand next to the bed. She took enough money for breakfast and walked out the door. As she left the room she turned around for one last glimpse of the broken man.
"Sweet dreams. You'll be alright."
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Remembering a friend
I look back and think to myself: "Perhaps there was something more that I could have done." Honestly, I don't think that there was. We weren't all that close, but to me, he was still a friend.
I remember talking to him intimately about himself. If there was one thing that we shared, it was the fact that we were both bound by duty to appease our families. We both knew that we didn't want to be shackled by duty, instead we wanted to pursue our own dreams and goals. He didn't want to work in the medical field, I didn't want to get into the numbers game.
It was cathartic.
We occasionally saw each other after that. A friendly gathering here and there to watch a random sporting event, passing by each other at school, regardless we met with a smile and a "wassup" or "how ya doing?"
We gave him a nickname. "Cool." The reasoning was simple, every time he sat down, stood up, or leaned up against something, it would seem like he was posing as a male model in a magazine.
It then came as a big surprise, I couldn't believe it, my friends couldn't believe it. We found out the news that he had taken his own life. I can't imagine what his family went through, but for us, we were all speechless.
We agreed to attend the wake.
I watched as his family wept. Not knowing the why, all they knew was that they lost a son. We sat near the back, not knowing why. All we knew was that we lost a friend. As a group we walked up to his coffin. Each one of us paid our respects, not knowing what to say to his family. The only words I could muster up were "I'm sorry for your loss."
To this day, I still don't believe that it was him laying inside that coffin. It didn't look like him. To me, this friend is still out there somewhere. Leaning against a lamppost waiting for someone in his usual cool demeanor.
Damn it John. You are missed man.
I remember talking to him intimately about himself. If there was one thing that we shared, it was the fact that we were both bound by duty to appease our families. We both knew that we didn't want to be shackled by duty, instead we wanted to pursue our own dreams and goals. He didn't want to work in the medical field, I didn't want to get into the numbers game.
It was cathartic.
We occasionally saw each other after that. A friendly gathering here and there to watch a random sporting event, passing by each other at school, regardless we met with a smile and a "wassup" or "how ya doing?"
We gave him a nickname. "Cool." The reasoning was simple, every time he sat down, stood up, or leaned up against something, it would seem like he was posing as a male model in a magazine.
It then came as a big surprise, I couldn't believe it, my friends couldn't believe it. We found out the news that he had taken his own life. I can't imagine what his family went through, but for us, we were all speechless.
We agreed to attend the wake.
I watched as his family wept. Not knowing the why, all they knew was that they lost a son. We sat near the back, not knowing why. All we knew was that we lost a friend. As a group we walked up to his coffin. Each one of us paid our respects, not knowing what to say to his family. The only words I could muster up were "I'm sorry for your loss."
To this day, I still don't believe that it was him laying inside that coffin. It didn't look like him. To me, this friend is still out there somewhere. Leaning against a lamppost waiting for someone in his usual cool demeanor.
Damn it John. You are missed man.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Same difference
Just my luck.
I keep flipping a stupid coin that can only come up tails but I still call "heads."
Story of my life. I just can't win.
I keep flipping a stupid coin that can only come up tails but I still call "heads."
Story of my life. I just can't win.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Shitty Day
Frustration. Anger.
Why can't I just come home and hear "Welcome back." Is that too much to ask for?
Why can't I just come home and hear "Welcome back." Is that too much to ask for?
Friday, October 28, 2011
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