//
you're reading...
chemical reactions, musings

This struggle

She’s somewhere not with me right now, not tonight. Her voice isn’t on the other end of the line; not the raspy sound of her drawing a deep breath; not the snuffles as she holds back the looming sleepiness; not the comfort of being fully known to another soul.

She’s not here with me right now and I can’t sleep. I suppose this is the result of doing without thinking, of letting a habit and a routine set in, to draw furrows in the connections your brain and your body make to one another, by allowing the interdiction between the two to be driven by her–

To be her.

I can’t sleep. I miss her.

The thing is, the struggle you see, is that she is not mine to miss (and me, I am not hers). We have had this conversation, more than once, not less than thrice, and will have it again and again until we sort out the loggerheads of her straightness and my fey; of our sexual unsuitability despite the emotional resonance and comfort; of the fact that we are playing a game of layaway with one another, we are settling — no, indulging — and avoiding the facts of life.

The facts of our lives.

(I can’t sleep. I miss her and her voice and her blithe remarks and the soft breaths she huffs out as she struggles against Morpheus and he wins, he wins against us both, and we accept the fall only to wake not less than six hours later to rouse each other to our day’s requirements.)

This struggle, yes, this struggle, not one of my own making, not one of my choice. We crept up on one another, unsuspecting and indelicate in our eventual mutual co-option of each other.

I can’t sleep. I miss her. She’s away for only three days and just the first night feels like an eternity. I am addict without her fix; I am made weak without my–

I don’t even know what she is. Not my girlfriend. Not my lover. Not my wife. No, she’s just…she’s just mine, and I miss her, and I can’t sleep without her.

This struggle…

Advertisements

About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

Discussion

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Pingback: Hellogoodbye 2014/2015 | "Raw" She Said - 31 December 2014

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

May 2014
S M T W T F S
« Apr   Jun »
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Archives

Enter your email address if you would like to hear words that are worth it.

Join 302 other followers

Follow "Raw" She Said on WordPress.com
%d bloggers like this: