Dea

Walking down from the third floor room with the view to the oppressively hot and humid first floor I can jump on this amazingly strong wireless network, thus allowing me to check my email and write little entries with no soul in my blog.

Here’s one with soul:
After all these years it still feels so good to be next to you. I’m glad you stopped me when I started to kiss your neck. You froze and when I could tell my kisses were causing you to feel unfaithful I relented. “I want to cuddle with you,” you said “but that’s pretty much all i can do.” I was happy with that arrangement. It felt so good to be next to you, my arm behind you, or your hand in mine. You nuzzled your head in to my neck, smelling your sweet hair and soft skin. Fuck, it felt good. I didn’t want to let you go, like that first time, when we were 13 in the vacant backroom at the community center, you laid between my legs, so that I could kiss you and cuddle like we did for hours while we ate a bag of cherry licorice. You said you couldn’t sleepover. “Parental judgement?” I asked, “Parental and boyfriend,” you replied. It never seems to matter that you have a boyfriend. It’s almost better that way, cause I can give you all my love without the fear of it becoming destructive. Without it tearing us apart. One of those times when you came back from the bathroom, I had put pajamas on and got under my covers. I was tired, we had been cuddling with each other for hours and it was now 4 am. You came and curled up beside me, your arm across my chest, my arm behind your neck and squeezing you close to me so tight. After all these years of absence you still feel so natural, so right where I belong. I began to dream about us. Transcending from that momentary embrace to a dream embrace but this time inside a yet finished house, just big enough for the both of us, as if we were dogs in a doghouse. My POV is aerial and I watch as the roof begins to be constructed over us. But strangely, and stranger still that I notice it, the wrong materials are being used to construct the roof. 1×2 slats instead of sheathing and shingles. Through this vision I hear you say, “Are you in dreamland?” “Yes,” I reply and I tell you what I am dreaming. Communicating to me still in my dream she tells me that my dream is a pretty accurate interpretation of the current situation.