Saturday, August 23, 2008

Paper Doll

I like to think that my silence, my carefully conjured indifference is just my way of preserving my dignity. But I already know know I have none left. I surrendered it all when I first looked up into your eyes and realized I didnt have to pretend to be in love with you.

Every time we'd break apart my heart would cry out in protest. I had to curb every instinct that shouted for me to linger in your arms. Those dark eyes, warm as the melting chocolate effect you know had on my knees, could envelop me in your embrance with as much certainity as your lean muscles were capable of doing. That last night when you clutched me tightly and spun me up in the air, your brown orbs were as bright as stage lights, as blinding and as bewitching.

You had never held me like that before. Catherine maybe. But not ME. Damn, was that deceptive.

I knew in that instant, that my passion for you had much in common with my new found love for the theatre. Completely irrational as both these things were so far beyond me, things I could never have imagined wanting. But at the same time completely steady; for I was willing to wait till the opportune moment where I may someday gain each.

Perhaps one day this patient, deep well of affection I feel for you will fade. Maybe Ill be able to dance with other boys, listen to the Mills Brothers and talk of marriage with someone other than you. But that will not, can not lessen the impact you've had on my poor fragile heart. You are the first boy for whom Ive felt something other than the head strong youthful urgency to posses, insipte of the fact that my insane attraction to you is undeniable.

I was, maybe still am, content to let our fictitious relationship mature, like a fine wine. I want you in full bloom, not half baked. Romantically or platonically, I really cant say. But I think that right now I might just love you. Just a little bit.

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