Creative Writing, Momentary, The Fine Line

A Moment

For a second, just one, I was not concerned remotely about his thoughts. In that moment I was no longer wandering, wondering in my minds unfaithfulness. It was my own thoughts I had to battle with. My thoughts that had been indefinitely lost and indefinitely entwined with his, or the possibility of his.

I never knew, because the very words I once was so intimately involved with had failed me. I had no trust in them and they were messing with my heart.

For hours I would sit still, and ever wander through every possibility. In unconsciousness the day would unfold before me, my mind always asleep to my reality. I was an insomniac also, ever wondering. Pondering.

Then I would wake to my reality. When I would rise I would find that I was down. Way down. And I would have to set about climbing. Although, when I would rise and find that I was down I was disinterested in climbing. So I would sit and ponder, once more. At some point in the midst of that I would succumb to doing it all over again. Never knowing really and never intentionally.

That’s when he began to fade. No longer did his thoughts protrude into my mind. Neither did thoughts of his body against mine. If they did, I did not notice. I must mention, however, that this is when the pain of it all became my passion. The moment I was no longer entwined inside his mind I was alone in my own.

I was down but I was free. I breathed deeply and made a habit of it. My heart slowed a burned with heat. It was fabulous. It was fabulous.

And now, although the darkness of this depth surrounds me, I can breath into my mind whatever it is I wish to. And for a moment, just one, that is exactly what I will do.

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