The Unfinished Story.

"Tell me something you want."
"A four poster bed. Victorian style."
"Now that's tasteful! How come?"
"Well, I find pleasure in everything period. But I also picture her on it and I cannot help but smile at how glorious the sight is."
"And we're back to her.. Is there anything in this world that you do not relate to her?"
"I haven't thought about that.. but I don't think there is. Everything I imagine, she's there with me."
"Describe me how a perfect day to you would be."
"Hmm.. let's see. Can my day start at 4pm?"
"Of course."
"What a delightful day this is. I can see myself walking. I'm going to meet her. We've arranged to see each other under a tree. But this isn't just any tree. This beautiful creation of nature represents the love I have for her. This tree was a product of my imagination but it exists, after all. And she's there, waiting for me. I'm standing few feet away from her, I'm among the bushes and I can see her sitting in front of its hollow. I've always thought that all the dreams I want to live with her lie inside that hole. So, she is there, radiating a rare kind of beauty that only she possesses. She and the natural surrounding are perfect for each other; they are both formations of a divine power to which I am eternally thankful. I take a step towards her and she sees me.
"Good afternoon." I mutter, rather shyly. "You look wonderful."
I extend my hand towards her and she takes it. She stands up.
My senses are intensified, I'm swimming in her beauty and I am lost.
"Hello." she says.
A voice whose sound speaks to my soul like no other. Its cadence, its delicacy, it's hers. Her voice is the soundtrack of my life, the most harmonious music I have ever listened to.
"I like this place," she told me "it is very fairytale-like."
"Like you. This place suits you."
She blushes slightly and turns her glance towards the ground.
"I don't like you looking away from me. I want to be able to see your eyes."
And while saying that, I lift her face and her eyes meet mine.
"You stun me. Every move you make, every word you say.. I can feel it spreading all over me. It's paralyzing yet invigorating at the same time."
"You feeling like this.. seems unreal. I have always had so much fear in me."
"Fear? Concerning what?"
"You not wanting me back. My flower, this is not a matter of adolescent infatuation. This is a man who is strikingly in love with you and who, if chances would want it, would like to spend his whole life with you. So, you saying these words to me unleash such a mesmerizing sensation in me, I feel like floating."
She smiles. How I adore it when I see her face like this.
"My beautiful, beautiful flower."
And thus, I kiss her.
Now, I haven't really made up my mind as to if this kiss of ours is the first but it does feel like it.
I am certain that every time I'd kiss her, I would feel the same ever-changing, otherworldly, astounding sensation.
Her lips are soft and the passion residing in her kiss moves and enthralls me and it provokes a storm of life-changing emotions to me, I feel like melting into her arms, as if I am stripped off every ounce of strength in me, I just need to lie down under those wondrous blossoms on our tree and feel the tender touch of the wind on my skin while she is next to me and I am blessed enough to be able to run my fingers on this angel, this celestial creature that shattered my life only to make it anew and give me exuberance, ardour and ardent love like no other ever in any galaxy in the history of the world.
"I.. I can't."
"Is this part of the story?"
"No, this is part of reality. I can't go on with this story."
"Why not? It was such a bliss to listen to."
"I can't keep on pretending that she loves me and create stories full of poetry, lovemaking and all this emotional elation that can only hurt me rather than provide me with comfort."
"I thought you enjoyed these stories."
"I do. But I would enjoy them to be true more. And they are not. They never will be. I can't keep soothing myself with this venomous habit of mine."
"You deserve to be happy. Why not live some of this happiness off your stories?"
"Because this happiness is fake. It's non-existent and every time a story ends, a part of myself dies because I realize how much I love her and how much her absence saddens me. Do you know what it feels like? This void. This feeling of knowing that the one you love will never love you back. My heart bleeds and all I can do about it is turn this blood and pain into tears, and cry and cry until I drift off only to find myself dreaming about her. I can't. Call me weak. I might be. But I can't. My sanity is at risk because she won't take the risk of getting to know me. I am deeply sorry for yet another gloomy session. But I keep finding myself being buried deep into the darkness more and more each time. And right now, I really need to dwell on this darkness. I need to feel the pain eating me up and devouring any hope of inward healing and mending. I need to close my eyes and see her and then me try to reach her but be unable to because she is too far and every time I take a step closer she is ten steps farther and I have to feel the rejection. I have to let it flow in my veins, spread all over my bones, my skin, my very existence. I have to let it shake and convulse me. I have to feel the ache."

merkmale dieser homepage http://www.howtoaddlikebutton.com Tipps zum Handel erhalten