Member-only story
You were the man I looked for, the one I didn’t know I needed, the one I could never find.
It had nothing to do with appearance or chemistry or knowing or wishing or wonderment. There was no warning, no shooting stars, no seismic murmurs. I was just reading and there you were, waiting for something, not me, not wanting, just there between the words.
To see strength mantled in self-derision and competence woven into the fabric of accounting of error and doubt, to find trust built on foundations of lies, of what-ifs and outright fictions and feel sensuality and desire a tricky undercurrent to all. The hot ache in my throat and chest are wasted, too little too late and to no purpose but a wish for something that never will be.
When a spark is kindled and leaps into flame without tending, does it matter that it will burn out soon and unseen? Mourning is for what was and has passed, not for the non-existent.
Worlds and their people live in mind and memories now; worlds unknown, unheard of, unguessed at. Life is richer for them, understanding has grown, empathy has deepened. Living a thousand lifetimes is still not enough, for in so many of them I wanted to stay.
The candle could be at its end, that time is never known. I wish I could have left such a mark, could have quickened such emotions, stirred such passion. Then contented to face…whatever came next.
