And the summer sky shall shine with full moons rising
Above the darkened sea of salt that commands our needs.
The deposits of calcium upon the floor, being tossed about,
as the waves continue to roar. The tides decide to rise and changing lives; of the sands night impression left by visitors galore.
Sand castles carved by many personalities, but the best time I
have ever had was building one of these, unexpectedly with him
in my mid twenties. A certain freedom came with being around him.
I was asked if I wanted to go to the beach and begged to build sand castles with.
I laughed and thought how childish. But looking back, upon those days, it was sheer bliss. We could have loved each other endless and we could have been there for one another. The first night we kissed, I walked away and yelled "oh lordie,"
while pouring out my beer and yelling "I blame you for this!" He pulled me in and forced my attention. He held on tight and made sure I knew all of his thoughts that came unglued. He protested the passion and so did I. I confessed my nervousness.
Soft, strategic, thick lips kissing. Waves crashing
stars launching, it felt like the universe was watching. My hands caressing him everywhere and my mind flooding with questions. Romantic isn't even enough to describe , it's too simple its not deep enough. Erotic displays of confidence and constant fulfillment. He looked into my eyes and said "Come hear and melt into me. I want my arms surrounding you. "You look tired and need to rest, let me hold you for the rest of the night." Come here and sleep with me; just relax." He put lavender on his hands because he knew I was restless. He made sure to entangle himself with me. Like a pretzel, our legs intertwined and his toes connecting where I would put mine.
Looking back, that was special. Looking back I fucked it up. Looking back never changes the future. He told me he couldn't wait for me forever. He told me he loved me. He told me I let it die. He told me so many things that I never believed. But you know what, I didn't believe him for a reason. Because he was a liar.
He only thought he could handle me. He knew he couldn't. He only thought for a second he could. I was a small glimpse into his past that ran about wild and free. I freed him of the burden of me. Young, inklings making connections on the beach, building sand castles in the sand next to the constant ebb and flow that is the sea.
Later, he made a point of painting me. Then even later than that,
he sculpted me faceless, bare tits, stomach and shoulders all exposed.
With a mask, with a nose; that was like Pinocchio. The ugliest mask you'd ever seen.
The most obscene face sculpted with my body. There were a few paintings but the sculpture was the worst, seeing the work of someone you will always love depict you
so horribly. I knew instantly the heartache I had caused and knew I could never return.
I was his liar he never believed me as well. But who was there to bail him out, give him freedom and call him out? Who inspired him to paint and get back into his God given talent. Who helped him pull out of his depression? I did. And what did he do? Unlock the artist I never knew. It was because of him that I began to paint. We Inspired each other to express our inner beings. I am thankful for those nights, he will always be somebody that will make me run and hide. And should I see his face again, I'd turn away and if I couldn't do that, I stare him down all pale in the face.
I actually did see him one night out on the town with his wife. He followed behind her and locked eyes with me and we plundered each, secretly. A friend sitting at my table asked what got into me she said, "I looked like I saw a ghost." Jaw dropping. Heart skipping , anxiety taking control. Those few seconds felt like an eternity. I even tried to convince myself he wasn't him. I sat and watched him walk away, again. I should have yelled "Where's my five hundred bucks you fugitive!?"
July 23 2016 609am