02-16-2019, 05:18 PM
She listens to the strands of his thoughts and wonders if they would not be better off if this role were reversed. If he could hear into her mind, listen to all these secrets she holds so close to her heart, all these weaponizable vulnerabilities she is so careful not to let anyone find. He could know her truths and her heart, know the colors of the bruises behind her eyes and never have to wonder at what he thinks he sees hidden so deep inside her, all these the fissures that race up along her being, the cracks that open up so wide she can feel pieces of who she was slipping away.
Ghosts, ghosts of her heart.
Of her past and her present.
But then there are moments like these, moments when she is sure he must already know her so deep inside despite his doubt that he does not see everything she hides away. Moments when he doesn’t fight her as she draws him closer, brings his lips to her belly so he can feel for himself the life they created together. He has so much faith in her, so much trust, and she has no idea if it is just in his nature to be this way or if it is because he thinks he sees something kindred in her. Something worth being vulnerable for.
She feels it too, in shy, wary flashes. A desire to open up to him and trust him with all the pieces of herself, not just the ones she selects so carefully, not just the pieces she wants him to see. But it is so hard to go back to that place again, to bare herself to anyone who has the power to hurt her in the way Offspring had. She had given him her heart, surrendered it so freely for him to love and protect, to keep safe for always. He had given it back in pieces, brittle fragments until it all sat in her chest again, too shattered to feel anything more than this pain that still whispers warnings in her ears.
Still, when that joy rushes into him and he drags her in close, crushes her against his body and presses kisses over every inch of her skin, she knows that it is already too late to guard against him. Knows that he is already under her skin and in her mind or else she wouldn’t have come at all, wouldn’t have claimed this role with him. But she is terrified of what this might mean, too scared to kiss him back, to shower these same affections over him when she has no idea what they mean to him. When she is carefully constructing her own truths out of worst case scenarios so that it won’t hurt so much if they come true.
Ghosts, ghosts of her heart.
Of her past and her present.
But then there are moments like these, moments when she is sure he must already know her so deep inside despite his doubt that he does not see everything she hides away. Moments when he doesn’t fight her as she draws him closer, brings his lips to her belly so he can feel for himself the life they created together. He has so much faith in her, so much trust, and she has no idea if it is just in his nature to be this way or if it is because he thinks he sees something kindred in her. Something worth being vulnerable for.
She feels it too, in shy, wary flashes. A desire to open up to him and trust him with all the pieces of herself, not just the ones she selects so carefully, not just the pieces she wants him to see. But it is so hard to go back to that place again, to bare herself to anyone who has the power to hurt her in the way Offspring had. She had given him her heart, surrendered it so freely for him to love and protect, to keep safe for always. He had given it back in pieces, brittle fragments until it all sat in her chest again, too shattered to feel anything more than this pain that still whispers warnings in her ears.
Still, when that joy rushes into him and he drags her in close, crushes her against his body and presses kisses over every inch of her skin, she knows that it is already too late to guard against him. Knows that he is already under her skin and in her mind or else she wouldn’t have come at all, wouldn’t have claimed this role with him. But she is terrified of what this might mean, too scared to kiss him back, to shower these same affections over him when she has no idea what they mean to him. When she is carefully constructing her own truths out of worst case scenarios so that it won’t hurt so much if they come true.