I am in love with a whisper. (Real Life Entry at the Bottom) in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

She’s a dream, I find, as the only time we make love is when I close my eyes.

And she is there forming herself to my body.

I am bending to her will as she curves her form about my spine.

Her scent is of vanilla-soaked apples with a dash of decadence. It is a fragrance both fully comforting as her soft skin is sublime.

And, God, for a moment I would give up the foolishness of my vices were that to grant her to be for me. To be mine.

I color her eyelids with kisses, and I pepper her bare shoulders with my fingers. My nails digging in so eagerly, and dragging them down her softness. Her sweet figure. Discovering every inch as an explorer does the first time uncovering of the Sphynx. Desperate for more, and unquestionably out of his mind.

Each drag and clawing desire leaving her marked with my desperation for her, as she has stolen every part of the organ pulsing rapidly between the flesh of my left breast and the very center of my insides.

Oh, she has claimed my heart in ways I cannot relay and honestly, I wouldn’t even if I had the chance. Had the tongue. Was somehow able to scavenge words from the sonnets of our lovemaking.

The poetry of her body and mine.

Rhythmic in our flowing together.

The structure of her waist, and the curves of her thighs are the very essence of a perfection carved from or for desire.

Either way she has the palest blue eyes.

And I have always longed to sail the oceans.

So I do, on a small skiff from my port to her harbor across her pearls of vision.

Gods, how did she come to be?

An angel in my midst, when all I have found for so long are fingers clutching empty promises and fighting demons both inner and forced against me.

Time after time..

But she has wings, or I thought she must, because we are forever floating when I press into her, against her, breathe haggard whispers of my affection into her stifling form.

I cannot breathe without her!

And when I do, when she is near, it is the sweetest of oxygen I have ever imbibed.

Tell me, darling, will you always be in my dreams? Eternally grasping me from reality and throwing me down on the pillowy bed that we never quite make it to..

The floor, the table, the wall.. all perfectly natural landing spots.

When you are throwing me down and I am clutching your gown until we are both bare and exposed. Not a single thread between us.

And yet I feel the urge to pull on something..

Your hair.

My heart.

Your breath.

My life.

I make love to you at midnight, and I wake without a sweat. Covered in longing and sadly holding on my bedsheet.

This linen has so many threads.

The count is perfect.

Soft, and comfortable.

It has so many threads.

I should find one, you would think, in this empty bed of life to attach myself to and throw myself into at night..

So many threads to choose from..

I suppose that’s the very definition of life and the rarity of quality.

So many threads.

It almost never has the right kind.

=========================

Had some friends over the other night. That’s not unusual. Was my usual charming self. Again, that’s not unusual. I think Ian and Meredith might have been trying to set me up with their friend Mary who was in town to surprise her mom for Mother’s Day. She lives in New York now. That was unusual. She was cute. I liked her just fine. Though at one point the topic kind of came up about my being single and a joke was made that I had no shot with Mary.

I deadpanned look at her and said, “Oh, trust me, darling. If I want you, you’ll be mine.”

Apparently that didn’t go over too well with Meredith. lol. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole or anything. It’s just honestly how I felt. How I do feel. My friends have almost never seen me actually flirt with a girl. I’m the charming super sweet guy. I come off that way because that is who I am. I want everyone to have fun. When guests come over I always provide any food or drink I can. I ask them if they need anything. Show them around. Just courteous things you should do, I think. I’m friendly with anyone when out shopping or grabbing a bite. They’re at work doing a crappy job, if I can make them smile even for 10 seconds, then I hope it helped make their day better. Even if only in the slightest.

And I’m somewhat loud and often the center of attention be it 4 friends over or 24.. I’m loud and funny and usually pretty charming, but I’m also very willing and often the target of jokes. The butt of the jokes. It’s totally fine. I like hearing my friends laugh. Seeing them smile. I want everyone to have fun, even if I have to look like an ass (it’s not hard for me to do! trust me! haha) to do it.. :)

Anyway, so the point is I’m also supremely confident. In myself. In my character. In who I am.. the last relationship battered that, no question, but I know I’m a helluva guy. I know it because I put in the effort to be that guy. It’s not something you can just claim. You have to be that guy. And I usually am.

So when I flirt, I’ve been told in the past I can be kind of.. arrogant. I think it’s confidence. Either way, girls may say they want a nice guy, but no.

They don’t.

They want a really nice guy who is also got a bit of an edge to him. Nothing terrible. Just nice is almost always boring. You can’t just be nice and get the girl. It doesn’t work. I was that guy eons ago. You always end up “the good friend.”

No, if you have a bit of an edge, I’ve found girls actually dig that quite a bit. I’m still the nice guy, but I’m not a doormat. You won’t walk over me. I feel you’re lucky to find me. Lucky for me to show you attention. And if I show you attention, you should value it and reciprocate in kind.

Because I’m not like everyone else.

I know it, and I guess I had the arrogance to express that.

Mary apparently wasn’t too offended by it. I told Meredith I was truly sorry if it came off as me saying I could have Mary, it wasn’t meant that way. She said I’d be lucky to have someone like Mary, and I agreed she did seem really awesome, but that uh, she’d also be lucky to have me. She thought about that. I think it mostly surprised her. But, yeah, that was interesting.

Honestly? I wish I had phrased it better. It probably came off much worse than my intent. So I told Meredith to pass that along to Mary. I do kind of feel bad about it. Went over to have dinner and watch Interstellar with Steve and his wife Sam last night. Had a great time. I told them about it, and Sam totally agreed with me. Steve’s a great guy, but he’s got way more edge than I do. She’s like look who I married! Haha. The point I guess is that hopefully I’ll pick my words a little more carefully.

But I’m finally for the first time since the devastation of the the past two years am starting to feel like myself again. I feel like Brian again.

I talk like Brian again.

I sound like Brian again.

I feel my confidence back.

My desire to talk to a girl and not immediately have my stomach clench because my belief in people was so severely damaged has finally returned.

I’m finding my way back to my hands. Back to my voice. Back to my hopeful view of people and life and back to my romantic hopelessness inside.

I feel alive.

Note to Self: Don’t tell the girl you can have her if you want her when you first meet her.. just wait a little while.. ;)

I couldn’t resist.

Last updated May 17, 2015