Posts tagged with "love"

The Beginning To The End

This was the week­end we first met.

The first time we kissed. The first time we held each oth­er. The first time we slept with arms entwined, bod­ies bare and buried under the cov­ers.

It was before the snow melt­ed on the verge of spring, when I would open the win­dows to dry the sweat from our skin.

I put on a song that made me cry, because she said that it turned her on, and with the tears welling up in my lids, we stared into each oth­ers’ eyes.

From the moment we touched, there was nev­er any awk­ward­ness. Only a com­plete trust, a com­fort­ing famil­iar­i­ty, as if we’d known each oth­er for years, a gen­tle nuz­zle of the nose from my baby-faced doll.

And now it’s over.

Someone who saw this video sent me this very touch­ing let­ter about her sto­ry of rape and recov­ery.

It's Over

There’s no room for con­fu­sion or regret. One can only thrust one­self for­ward, nev­er look­ing back, nev­er ques­tion­ing what was once said. To learn from these mis­takes is the only sav­ing grace. Busyness is sim­ply self-dis­trac­tion, and to believe oth­er­wise is self-delu­sion.

So do you fuck him hard­er, to bury the love you once had, to drown the guilt with fer­vent voic­es? To con­vince your­self that it’s over, and that this is bet­ter any­way?

And do you try to love him more, because you can’t love me?

Thrice = Love: The Rush

I want to take the bul­let,
The one aimed straight for your heart.
I want to meet the wolves halfway
And let them tear me apart,
But that’s not the way they do it here.

I want to lay on the tracks,
Feel hot steel scream­ing at me.
Expose the bones on my back,
Let me show you what I mean.

Yeah, it’s a dif­fer­ent kind of love.
I want to climb barbed wire fences
And warm our hands in blood.

And this is my gift
Asking you to fix my ruined hands.
And it’s a gift that keeps on giv­ing,
And right now it’s all I have to give.

I want to write the per­fect song,
And play it just for you,
While you are tan­gled up in sleep.
I need you more than I’ll ever know.
Until I stop breath­ing,
My lungs will take you for grant­ed.

—Thrice, In Years To Come

I remem­ber a time in my life when I was scared about love. A set of rather ado­les­cent expe­ri­ences in high school, of which I only now find myself com­fort­able speak­ing frankly, had caused me to cling to an unat­tain­able ide­al. In Lolita, Humbert Humbert well describes such a hap­pen­stance that sim­i­lar­ly “made of it a per­ma­nent obsta­cle to any fur­ther romance through­out the cold years of my youth. The spir­i­tu­al and the phys­i­cal had been blend­ed in us with a per­fec­tion that must remain incom­pre­hen­si­ble to the mat­ter-of-fact, crude, stan­dard-brained young­sters of today”.

Eventually, I had giv­en up my ide­al, but still felt for­ev­er taint­ed, regret­ful­ly break­ing more than enough hearts in the process.

It only took an ardent, extreme­ly brief sum­mer romance to free me, and a jour­ney of 12500 kilo­me­tres to real­ize it.

And as fleet­ing as the entire expe­ri­ence was, it still enough to gal­va­nize, to make me want to take that bul­let, or let the wolves tear me apart. Being tan­gled up in that mad love, the love that goes against rea­son or bet­ter judge­ment, soft­ened the stone in my chest, and it felt like I was final­ly alive.

Gimmie a girl who can make me feel this way.

The Thrice = Love Series

  1. Introduction
  2. The Journey
  3. As The Crucible
  4. Rock It
  5. The Rush
  6. Far From The End

Unspoken

I can see it in your eyes
I can hear it in your voice
the signs are obvi­ous
that all we had has run its course

—Matchbook, Strung Out

The hard­est thing isn’t know­ing this’ll end, because the cer­tain­ty of such a fact was clear from the moment we start­ed. It’s know­ing that the end is com­ing and still falling in love that’s the hard­est.

How can I dis­tance myself when every­thing you do draws me clos­er? If only it was­n’t so fruit­less to keep remind­ing myself that this will nev­er last. All that can be said is that it’s worth it. Everything I’ll be feel­ing soon is worth anoth­er night lying next to you, worth anoth­er morn­ing wak­ing up with you.

So give me one more kiss, one more taste of your lips, and tell me how much you’ll miss this.