Sugar_Qween
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2005
- Messages
- 25
How many times have I found myself sitting in this chair, back straight, fingers poised to write down all the beauty I can find in my head for my audience of one. For you.
This is the first time I’ve ever been speechless. Forgive me, I will try my best.
Standing in front of the mirror today, freshly applied makeup hiding my face from the world, willing myself not to cry.
Abject failure.
*plop*
Big, round, tear falls. Creates a thin line of fleshy pink to the pallid paleness of the base-coat on my face. My lips quiver, my hand moves to my forehead, I inhale and exhale quickly.
*plop*
Another tear.
This time my eye-liner dilutes in a sad saline solution. Why do I need a pencil to make my eyes bluer, when my unshed tears serve as the best highlighter I have?
You worry. You don’t understand the reason for my tears. Maybe you think it’s something you’ve said? Maybe you think it’s something you did?
No.
I have fallen from grace so many times that my knees are beginning to bleed. I try so hard to stand up… but it’s getting hard.
And, if I’m not falling from grace…. I’m falling in….
I’ve been slowly, inconspicuously, falling in love.
There is no control. No loss-prevention scheme in place. I give my most precious possession, my heart. There is no deposit. There’s no receipt.
You have thirteen years more experience of life. Thirteen years more experience of love. Thirteen years more experience of lust.
I want to rip out the majority of memories that you have in your head of other women. I don’t want them to be there because I wish it were only me. This tigress cannot see reason and is passionately jealous. But she’d still put those memories into a box for you, and give you them to stow away, while she gently licked your wounds clean again.
Sometimes she gets scared.
Feels a failure because however hard she’s tried, she cannot get the words past her lips. They’ve stuttered, clambered backwards, firmly rooted their feet in the ground. She wonders “Is this the right time” and “will he like me just the same” and “will he believe me”… and so another chance goes by un-noticed. A small revelation becomes a passionate kiss or a tight hug.
But…
She would very much like to say those three words… and have you think that there is nobody else that you’d rather hear say them.
There is nobody else that she’d rather say those words to. There is nobody in her life that becomes close to what you have become to her.
Love carries no time limit, no insurance, no guarantees. Third party, fire and theft? Think again. Love doesn’t wait for me to know you inside out or accept you without questioning, even just a little.
But it can become blind to faults. It can heal the rotted core that said that I would never feel this way.
My past is a blur.
There is no memory book of my past. Someone cut your face out and pasted it over everyone else’s. Those years seem wasted. Time spent on fools who weren’t you, couldn’t ever be you. All the time you were there, somewhere in the world.
Why couldn’t I have met you before all the badness? I was so fresh and naïve and pretty… and I could have screamed out my love with a burst of glitter and a smile that outshone the sun.
I feel cocooned in my fears. If you pull them away, you’ll see me. Curled up small, eyes blinking at the sunshine that’s penetrated the treacly blackness.
I am yours. I am waiting. The moment will soon be ours.
This is the first time I’ve ever been speechless. Forgive me, I will try my best.
Standing in front of the mirror today, freshly applied makeup hiding my face from the world, willing myself not to cry.
Abject failure.
*plop*
Big, round, tear falls. Creates a thin line of fleshy pink to the pallid paleness of the base-coat on my face. My lips quiver, my hand moves to my forehead, I inhale and exhale quickly.
*plop*
Another tear.
This time my eye-liner dilutes in a sad saline solution. Why do I need a pencil to make my eyes bluer, when my unshed tears serve as the best highlighter I have?
You worry. You don’t understand the reason for my tears. Maybe you think it’s something you’ve said? Maybe you think it’s something you did?
No.
I have fallen from grace so many times that my knees are beginning to bleed. I try so hard to stand up… but it’s getting hard.
And, if I’m not falling from grace…. I’m falling in….
I’ve been slowly, inconspicuously, falling in love.
There is no control. No loss-prevention scheme in place. I give my most precious possession, my heart. There is no deposit. There’s no receipt.
You have thirteen years more experience of life. Thirteen years more experience of love. Thirteen years more experience of lust.
I want to rip out the majority of memories that you have in your head of other women. I don’t want them to be there because I wish it were only me. This tigress cannot see reason and is passionately jealous. But she’d still put those memories into a box for you, and give you them to stow away, while she gently licked your wounds clean again.
Sometimes she gets scared.
Feels a failure because however hard she’s tried, she cannot get the words past her lips. They’ve stuttered, clambered backwards, firmly rooted their feet in the ground. She wonders “Is this the right time” and “will he like me just the same” and “will he believe me”… and so another chance goes by un-noticed. A small revelation becomes a passionate kiss or a tight hug.
But…
She would very much like to say those three words… and have you think that there is nobody else that you’d rather hear say them.
There is nobody else that she’d rather say those words to. There is nobody in her life that becomes close to what you have become to her.
Love carries no time limit, no insurance, no guarantees. Third party, fire and theft? Think again. Love doesn’t wait for me to know you inside out or accept you without questioning, even just a little.
But it can become blind to faults. It can heal the rotted core that said that I would never feel this way.
My past is a blur.
There is no memory book of my past. Someone cut your face out and pasted it over everyone else’s. Those years seem wasted. Time spent on fools who weren’t you, couldn’t ever be you. All the time you were there, somewhere in the world.
Why couldn’t I have met you before all the badness? I was so fresh and naïve and pretty… and I could have screamed out my love with a burst of glitter and a smile that outshone the sun.
I feel cocooned in my fears. If you pull them away, you’ll see me. Curled up small, eyes blinking at the sunshine that’s penetrated the treacly blackness.
I am yours. I am waiting. The moment will soon be ours.
