The night my little
brother ends a five-day stint in the hospital, I find myself in a
friend's room with the most beautiful man I've ever met. He is the
personification of Bill Weasley, lithe and freckled, with beautiful
red-auburn hair in a low ponytail. I met him last year and slept with
him twice. For reasons since forgotten, I call him the Fool.
This is maybe the second
time I've seen him since he left my bedroom just before Christmas,
and I greet him with a hug that is a little too exuberant. He smiles
at me, and I take refuge in his energy. He is one of those people
whose aura I want to crawl inside of, an eye amidst a hurricane. We
banter like old friends, and though I'd like to think I'm a special
case, I know I'm not—he's that kind of person, comfortable and
safe. At one point, I make a comment about going insane, and he tugs
one teal-and-purple curl and says, “Yeah, and you dye your hair to
match.”
Later, the girl with the
rainbow necklace joins us, and as people begin dissipating and
sliding into sleep, we decide to wander away. I say goodbye to the
Fool, jumping up and hugging him fiercely. I would give anything to
kiss him again, and as I pull away, I swear he reads it in my eyes.
“You little
troublemaker,” he says softly, and it feels like somehow he has given me
both approval and permission to take the flirtation and the energy,
the banter and the smirks, and use them. I know I'm probably reading
too much into things, but his fictional approval touches something in
me, and I walk out with the girl with the rainbow necklace, smiling.
Half an hour later, I
find myself on the grass of the soccer field, the girl wrapped around
me. We speak of stars and childhood friends, and I find myself
kissing purple gloss from her lips. An hour later we are tangled in
her sheets, and when we are interrupted by a knock on her door, I
leave with a sigh.
Walking across the grass
to my own room, I wonder if I will ever have the capacity to love
anyone again, or if my heart will always be haunted by the ghosts of
old soul-mates and one night stands and people I never had the
courage to fuck.
2 comments:
"You are cordially invited to shut your dirty whore mouth". You really didn't try to conceal his identity very hard sweetie. Also, don't publish shit like this on facebook where it can hurt people.
Signed,
that "most beautiful" Man's Honey
So, I'm not sure if this comment comes from misdirected anger or a misunderstanding of what I intended in this post, but there are several things I'd like to address.
1. The last time I slept with the Fool was something like December 10th of last year. At that time, both of us were single.
2. I have no intention of trying to sleep with him again.
3. Any romantic inclination I may have towards him is minimal. He is a friend, and while I'm drawn to him as a person, I understand that A) he has no interest in me and B) is otherwise involved with other people (or person, as you've just informed me.)
4. The point of this blog post was that I'm trying to sleep with the girl in the rainbow necklace. Not him.
Obviously, you know me somewhat personally, or you wouldn't be able to see my Facebook posts. In this case, I invite you to message me so we can discuss this further if you so desire. But please understand that I mean no offence or imposition on you. In fact, I have no idea who you are; I wasn't aware he is currently in a relationship.
Also, when upset, it is most often unproductive to begin the explanation as to why you are upset with a (stolen) insult.
Cheers.
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