What is this? What is this? Is this what love is? ~ "Is Rosie awake?" James asks. We're in the hot springs. It's late. We've had lots of food. I am sleepy, and I haven't heard from T all day. My heart hurts. I am waiting for that day when he decides I am not worth it, that I have too much of the crazy. Allison smiles and drops her voice. "Stop pining," she murmers at me, through the railing of the pool ladder. "What's up with her?" James asks, and I open my eyes and smile, but I know the smile is tired and a little bit sad. "She's pining for the fjords," Allison laughs and I laugh too, but my laughter is quiet. I am pining. ~ I swing a hand in front of my chest. I feel for the rope that stretched from my chest for so long, the one that connected me to G. It alarms me, almost, that I cannot feel it anymore. I wonder if G feels it too. I feel free-floating. I feel disconnected. I feel like I'm drifting. There is nothing pushing, nor pulling me anymore, except for myself and the wind. I feel the wind around me. It buffets, it trembles. It does not blow in one direction, not yet. It is like the air before an electrical storm: all my hair stands on end, even the hair on my arms. I cannot even feel the ground. My feet hang in the air. I cannot feel the ground. ~ I think about T constantly. He is in my head. I remember him. I remember his words, his hands. I remember his fist in my hair, his sly smile. Every little black word that pops up in our chat box, I remember. It all blends in my head. I feel like I have to concentrate, every step of every day, to keep my feet on task, lest they start walking towards him. ~ I can't think, I-- I can't-- I-- Light explodes in my brain, my muscles spasm. Finger claw at the sheets, hips twist. It's a tide. It crashes over me, washing away hate and fear and self. His hands are hot against my exposed skin, gentle and strong. The wave recedes, pulling at my thoughts, dragging away words until there is nothing left but the hollow chamber of my head and the full one of my heart. He crawls up over me and I look deep into his eyes, trying to control my gasping. "I faked it," I deadpan, and he laughs, a smug smile sliding across his face. "Bullshit," he purrs. Moisture glistens in his beard, and I cannot help but laugh. ~ He calls me beautiful. He makes me laugh. When did the cards all land in his hand? Does he think about me as much as I do him? It drives me wild when I don't know where he is. I don't try to contact him, though, because I know he's just out with friends, or at fight practice, or what ever. I don't want to be that kind of woman. I wish I was next to him, always. I wish I shared his bed. My heart hurts, it feels full to overflowing. ~ Is this what love is? It hurts. . Rosie.
Before&After
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