ImagineMyThoughtsInWords

 Purposely, so into each other, he consumed me. Everything about me, he seemed to love it here. He saw me. completely, solely, visibly so unbothered by the drift in my energy.  For me, it was him still. He had broken into me. To the core and to my depth, my very thing he'd told himself to love about me, that everything about me is love and done in love. He had said, one time, in my presence, to some girl, "she's a lover, and I love that. Everything about her embodies love."  For a while I waited for him to say "I want that for her. to give it to her or at least learn her language and make it mine." I couldn't escape him, at the time it seemed even if I wanted to. In that moment he made sense, because sexually, he was all I knew, my unfulfilled fantasy, the person that had told me "don't move" while his being was inside. I had his soul deep in mine, and for the first time, he felt like mine.  This new cycle, was patient and gentle. He knew I...

"I suppose I scared you off huh?" I asked, laying on his chest listening to him compress his breath without being too obvious. After listening to my tragic stories about how love did me dirty, he came back, again and again. I wanted to trust his interests, they seemed morbid but I compared them to a man with good intentions but men lie most, unnecessarily. He left that day knowing me, partially yet so wholly. I mean it was my entire life from just 10 months of a forever full of incomplete cycles. I knew my mess was alluring to him. He'd come back, I told him, and he'd want to save me, out of love or out of pity, but one way or another he'd become my new cycle of chaos. He'll like my depth, then grow to love it until he realizes it's as permanent as my birthmarks, then he'll leave. I wanted nothing from him; well, expect to use him to revisit a time I once loved, or plenty other moments, with another man, that wasn't him. I couldn't have him in ...