musings #57

there was a beat of time, barely more than a moment, where he thought that maybe they shoudnt do this. shouldnt engage in this torrid affair, shouldnt take the step they hadnt yet made. that maybe they should just…stop. there had been moments of heat between them but they had never gone too far; had always stayed on the cusp of right and wrong. but things had reached a fever pitch and everything was bubbling up and starting to boil over and it was too much. it was all too much and they were burning up. later on he would try to convince himself that that was why he had ended up with his clothes off, his body laid out on silk sheets that are all too messed up; he had gotten to hot.

musings #133

there was teeth and tongue and a hand gripping his waist and another fisted in his hair and there was so much that shouldn’t have been happening because this was his sisters husband for fucks sake but it was happening and he wished it would never stop and he hated that he wished that and he hated that everything felt so right even though he knew in his heart it was all so wrong.

and it was different, now. there was skin on skin and roaming hands and racing heartbeats and his mind was screaming no and we cant do this but his mouth was saying yes and dont stop and more more more and there were moans and pleads and an ‘i love you’ from one or both and they were too far gone, now. they had gone too far and couldnt come back. they had crossed an invisible line and were in too deep. they were drowning in their lies and their deception and they were drowning in each other

depression

you wake up at 7am on a monday morning. its december, you think. youre wrong. its january.

you get out of bed an hour later. its 12. ‘that cant be’, you think. your grab your phone. its 12:01 now.

you leave your room. you shower. youre not hungry but you havent eaten in 16 hours. you need to eat. you grab a packet of salted crackers. you open it. you eat 3.

you take a nap. you wake up. its wednesday evening.

you smell bad. your hair is greasy. you need to shower. you get up. you walk to your bathroom. you close the door. you get undressed. you get in the shower. you turn the water on. you sit down. the water is hot. its too hot. you dont care.

the water isnt hot anymore.

you get out of the shower. you go to bed.

you wake up. its saturday night. you go back to bed.

you wake up. its sunday! you get up. you shower, you make yourself breakfast and you run some long overdue chores! you talk to some friends! you go home, you eat dinner, you shower again! you go to bed.

you wake up. its saturday again.

its saturday again.

its saturday again.

its saturday again.

its saturday again.

its saturday again.

its saturday again.

you wake up at 7am on a monday morning. you look out your window.

on a tree outside, theres a robin.

touch

jasper loved waking up next to dominic. loved how warm it was; how safe he felt. he loved the memories it kept alive; of moaned names and softly gripped hips and pleads of more and more and more. he loved placing his head on dominics chest and hearing his heart beat. he loved looking at him; seeing the way he would scrunch his face up when the sun would peek through the curtains and wake him up. jasper loved every moment of it and he hoped he would never miss a single second.

introspection

jasper had always felt…cautious with dominics feelings. he hated to admit because he knew how strong dominic was in not letting his trauma run his life, but jasper always felt himself drifting into thoughts that dominic was fragile. realistically he knew that dominic was strong and didnt want or need to be babied, but…sometimes he skipped back into the mindset of needing to walk on eggshells. it’s why their intimacy meant the world to jasper. the vulnerability dominic showed him even if dominic himself would never admit to it; the way he opened his heart to jasper still took his breath away. he could feel it in the way dominic looked at him, spoke to him, held him, and loved him. with time jasper was realizing that dominic was stronger than probably either of them knew, and he hoped with more time this doubt he had would be less than a memory.

rune

of strawberry fields and golden sunsets. of soft blue skies and strolls through the park. of deep grey clouds and large knitted blankets. of rolling storms and hours spent watching. of autumnal chill and soft brown scarves. of snowed in days and sweet hot chocolate. of love not given. of love yearned after. of love given up on. of love given back. of anxiety attacks. of healing. of regressing. of regressing. of regressing. of healing. of loving. of being loved. of loving oneself. of living.

of living