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I hit the ground.
He lighted his cigarette and looked at me.
“Ya want sum?” he said to me. I nodded and he leisurely passed it to me.
I sighed as I smoked it. “I’ve never felt like this before.” I said.
“How so?”
“Seasons change you know? I change. I’m not the same. I never thought I’d start smoking cigarettes.”
He looked at me and took the cigarette outta my hand. “What do you mean exactly?”
Staring at the parking lot, I explained: “You know that I did weed and that shit but never nicotine. My father did it all the fucking time. Man was so crazy for it that whenever we’d tell him to quit smoking he would make empty promises. Hated him for that. Lied to us for all his life. And that’s how it brought me to hate nicotine.” looking back at him, I see him already staring at me. “Now, I smoke it once in a while. Should I be ashamed?”
He got a long hit and then answered: “Nah, doll. Look. When I was five, I used to stay at my pops and I knew that he always had a gun somewhere hidden in the house. Every Sunday I’d hear bangs coming from the backyard. In the morning I’d see dry blood in the yard. This went on for three years. None stop. And I never questioned my father’s decisions. But oh, how did I hate him for making them. Guess we all went through sumthin that traumatized us.”
I stared at him and hesitantly asked him “Do you still hear the bangs?”
He sadly smirked and looked up to the sky while responding to me with: “I hear Bang Bang every Sunday night. And I wake up scared to find dried blood in the backyard.”
I curiously asked: “Didn’t you even have the urge to ask him why he did that?”
“Of course I did, doll. I knew I’d get a beating because of it so I shut my mouth, forced my eyes closed and pushed myself to sleep with the bangs.”
I slowly slid to him and hugged him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Wood. Why did you have to go through all that at such a young age?”
“One of us should suffer in this life babe. And God said it was my turn. Gotta accept it doll. Now don’t get sad because of me” He tilted his head down to take a look at me and he saw the tears that were shedding from my eyes. I sadly looked back at him and said: “You’re my baby boy. I love you. With my whole heart.”
“I love you Doll.”
He needed help. And how could I help a cowboy? What was the best way to help him? I have no fucking idea.
"All apologies man! What else could I say?"
Is it weird to say that when he said this, I had the best eargasm ever. It's not because it's spring and in this season women are particularly "in heat", but the thing is that he looked hot as hell when he said this to my dad.
Now, to help the man that accidentally spilled his coffee drink on my texan dad's shirt, I said that he was a dear friend of mine and that he didn't do that on purpose.
My dad looked at me as if I killed his dog Roofus. Acting as if I was innocent, I look back at him and say "What's up? You're surely not mad just because of a mere shirt getting dirty, are you? Come on now dad! Can you go inside and get me a cappuccino please?" by now I was only rambling. But nonetheless my dad nodded at the man and went inside.
"Thanks for getting me out of the dirt, doll. He was pissed as hell, thought he was gon beat the fuck outta me and I would never see the light again." he said while chuckling.
"Nah, don't sweat it. You know texan men have anger issues." I laugh.
"Name's Blaze by the way. Nice to meet you." he gave me his hand and I shook it while saying: "I'm Brooklyn. Nice to meet ya too! Are you new to town? Haven't seen ya round here before"
"Yeahhh. Got here a week ago. Moved from Dallas. Wanted to change scenery and got to Austin. People 've told me that they have pretty cowgirls 'roun here, you know."
Oh you sneaky little shit.
i want a man. A man that after having a heaty discussion gets a little upset, and sees that when I feel offended somehow, I don’t talk to him for a while, not even acknowledge him, because he doesn’t deserve to be treated with affection after raising his voice at me. I want a man that sees this reaction of mine towards him and tries several times to make me change my mind with tiny little gifts or presents, then changing to writing letters and spraying them with his perfume which he knows I find it amazing, and then getting me my favorite flowers everyday with a tiny letter written by him. Then I want him to realise that these tiny things won’t make me forgive him. And I want my man to kneel in front of me and kiss my stomach, my hips and worship me. While I’m there watching him kneeling before me and that’s where I’d melt. And forgive him.
On oubliera aussi nos humeurs puisque le ciel n'est jamais le meme.
He had travelled with me everywhere. Believing in our love, becasue there was no other type of faith. And that's partially how our life moved on. It was the rain that continuously fell to our hair until it fully wet it, immersing it to full salty natural water. As if there was some principal actually making the sky cry to our souls becasue we tainted it full love.
It is forbidden to stay with a man. We knew that but love had done a good job in getting inside our heads and hearts, controlling every single move of our life. Where can we find the tools that help you to defeat this chevalier?
Besides that, we were abandoned by our family and by our God. They all thought that we were betraying them and the faith. But it was the opposite. While loving eachother, we had a stronger faith in family and God, besides religion which perhaps, wasn't as importand as we thought it was. So, yes, we betrayed religion but we didn't betray the truth.
Do you know what's the truth?
The flames inside our hearts.
Now what truly makes me curious is what’s behind those beautiful brown eyes…
It is really hard for me to understand his intentions. Sometimes he’s cold and crude with me but there are also times when he is calm, soft and he even initiates affection towards me. Because of this, exactly I am dubious of his actions.
As in, do you love me or do you not love me?
I don’t want to continue living like this anymore; loving you while I’m trying to understand what’s worth doing and what not. I’m in a conflicting position with insecurities that I never had before but finally you had the urge to make me have them. It’s outrageous to think that I love you but at the same time I hate you. And I’m not particularly talking about that kind of hate that engulfs your very being and claims your soul, plaguing it with negative faith. No, I’m talking about that moment where one’s behaviour is so beautifully wrong, making you infatuated to it in a way that brings you to respectfully hate that person. But make no mistake, dear readers, hating that person doesn’t mean that I’m not burning with a raging fire within my heart and mind, roasting those little rational thoughts that have been remaining in my tiny skull, instead I am suffering in misery while stopping this hate towards this person, because it’s paradoxically sweet of him to have that demeanour with me.
I’m the one to blame. Because I never ceased to live without him in my routine. As in I dived into his lifestyles and matched my own rhythms to his, sacrificing my freedom and empowerment. Isn’t this such a cruel world?
Perfect cruel rational world. That seeks to confine us into narrow roles and expectations, and we defy those limitations. At least that’s what a normal person seeks to proceeding.
Instead, I am doing the opposite. Aren’t I ashamed of my own actions and ambitions? I seek to have a love life and I search for it in every single corner of the streets I walk through. But, I’m absolutely not embarrassed of my intentions, I am exhausted of all the limitations imposed upon me by an outdated script of delusional MEN of an old fashioned world. Now, I come from a quite antique century too, but I never seek to follow these outdated “laws”…
But he is the man of his times, the one that lives in danger and commands his inferiors, putting them to submission and protecting his dear ones.
I am one of his dear ones. His first priority. He has proven it to me. Several times. And I’m not talking about something that happened some years ago… No, I’m talking about two days ago;
We were seated in the back seats of our car, the driver could not particularly listen to our conversation, but we were having a small quarrel about something that had no means to whatsoever… But he was getting angry, not at me but he had been bothered by several affairs that day and he had no patience whatsoever to deal with tiny little stupid issues that I created in the moment just because I wanted a bit of his attention…
He raised his voice at me. He had never done it before.
And at that moment, I turned my head and looked out of the window. He stopped his sentence. And stopped talking.
When we arrived home, I waited for him to open my door and I got out the car. With my head raised, I was headed to the door. He followed behind me. Stayed behind me. Never dared to say something to me.
Once inside our room, I closed the door and only said one word “Out”.
The next morning I woke up, did my usual routine and headed to my kitchen to have breakfast. I saw that he had already prepared breakfast for me. And then, he had went to meet his men.
After that I had gone out for a stroll in my garden.
I had thought I had been all alone. But there was a presence behind me. That person put their hand to my mouth and blocked my arms, locking them behind my back. I didn’t fight.
My husband came. Out of nowhere. He was there. And he shot that other man in the middle of his forehead.
Unbothered, I turned around and got back to clean my hands in the bathroom. He comes behind me too. He cleans his hands after me and he dries them.
I feel his hard and big arms gripping my waist and hugging me to himself. And I melted in his sculpted body. I turned my head to his head and softly pecked him to his lips…
You see? How could I ever hate him? He is my sweet, perfect, dangerous Salvatore.
My only boss and my husband.
Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus (Carme 5, Catullo) Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus, rumoresque senum severiorum omnes unius aestimemus assis. Soles occidere et redire possunt; nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda. Da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum; dein, cum milia multa fecerīmus, conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus, aut ne quis malus invidere possit, cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.
Under water. Body immerged in the ocean, seeking for an opportunity to near the after life. Because everything was useless without him in my life. Indeed, I didn't know where he was.
I decided to let my body die. For, without him in my life, I wouldn't know how to thrive.
Want to feel again his soft lips on mine, to bring him back in my life. And, someone held my body. Brought me to the land, caressed my hair but didn't try to revive me.
The touch was strikingly abusing my consciousness. because my body had gone limp in the nowhere.
I was feeling the stare of its presence, it was abnormal and I paradoxally wanted to open eyes and see who that was.
But, it was nearly impossible. And yet, I could see without seeing.
It's unexplainable but, my body knew who that was.
Now, I might have had a guess and I think I did know who that was. Because, those soft, plump lips , were on my skin. My body recognised him.
He was there for me.
Had I not immerged myself in the deep waters of the Atlantide, I would have seen him again.
I coulnd't move, neither speak. I couldn't open my eyes, neither breath. So, how was it possible that I could hear his voice?
I was screaming in my head. Meanwhile. he shushed me.
"My bunny. Don't panic. Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur. I'm here now with you, thats all that matters" , he said.
My Henry was here.My cold and freezing winter had come again to help me. There was an happiness inside me that nothing, not even Hades, could ever diminish it from me.
Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior. That was all I could think of.
We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving .
“I hate and I love Why do I, you ask ? I don't know, but it's happening and it hurts”