Originally Uploaded here by Mr. Mark
To me, you are a goddess, beautiful and terrible as the dawn. Our lives were connected in a very transient way, like wandering lover royal children, bringing to mind sea swept ship voyages, clad in velvet and jewels. Your heart was a fish from myth that only I had seen, capricious and elusive. But moments would come when, through riddle and persistence, it was mine. I think, perhaps, the only reason I am not now completely mad is through the knowledge that you would not have borne my children. For that, you require divinity of a more stoic nature, more earthly, as to humanity more possible than a normal man. My mythos is more fire and brimstone.
Our Relationship ended the moment we realised it existed. A bad time, you admitted, but it wasn't something you could hold. Me. You were a good friend, but I didn't lie to you that night. I was drunk, I came for the quim. That, into itself, was probably acceptable, and hardly the first time. But the problem was that I loved you. Or, perhaps, that you did not love me. Sometimes, it blurs as to which is at fault. In this instance, upon further reflection, I believe it is actually the first.
I want to talk to you, to see you, to be near you, so very very badly. It happens every time, and is made worse with every new encounter. You could command me much in the same way that she who I loved the most could, and it is perhaps in her absence that part of your power derives from. Some marvellous juxtaposition of fragility and strength, like a muscle at its breaking point: a word and a glance from you can unhinge me for weeks. This is hardly convinient, as the status quo seems to suit us both just fine. So I avoid you, no matter how much I desire the opposite.
Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: Venus Hum - Big Beautiful Sky (album d/l)
Currently Eating: Spinach Rotini with Meaty Red Wine Tomato Sauce topped with some Rathtrevor cheese
