Spoiler! :
Introduction
He used to visit me every night. That hopeless boy.
We would talk and laugh and sometimes kiss. Often we would watch a movie, or I would sit and listen to him playing the piano, coaxing sounds out of the old girl I never thought were possible. He tried to teach me, but my timing was always off and I could never remember which keys were which notes.
On Valentines Day, he gave me dried rose petals. Everywhere. On my bed, in my hair, resting gingerly on my eyelids. I woke and I was covered in them, covered in their sweet irony and covered in their intoxicatingly sweet scent…
He was the only one who truly knew me; he rescued me, brought me up from the depths of a person I only thought I wanted to be. He kept me afloat, prevented me from plunging back down. There were times when it was hard to hold on, to stay afloat. Hell, there were even times when I wished to be drowning again, because drowning had been the only thing for so long that I knew how to cope with…
But when I began to move forward, he always recoiled, refused. Maybe he couldn’t accept that I wasn’t entirely dependent on him anymore. He wanted things the same and I said I did too. But I lied. I lied to his face about what I wanted, what I hoped for. I lost him as soon as I had him, all because of pace and timing. I told you my timing was off.
I only ever wanted my wishes to fit in with his, to mould and compromise into wishes that mirrored his. But the will and the mind are powerful tools. You cannot constrain them for long. Soon enough, one or the other will break free. In the end, my mind overruled my heart…
He always spoke in riddles. He never said things the way they were, he never wanted to. He liked the chase; he loved watching me trying to figure it out. More than that, he wanted to understand exactly how I thought…
He was hopeless, that boy.
He was misunderstood at school. Whether that was because no one took the time to know him or because no one could be bothered, I was never sure. All I was sure of was that I wanted to know him, to understand him, should he give me half a chance...
At first, he appeared aloof, cold, shielding himself behind an icily handsome and mysterious exterior. I was the only one to find a chip, a tiny fissure where I could gain a foothold and break away the rest of his façade. After that, I hardly noticed his looks, or the irritated glares I received from his nameless admirers. They used to bitch about me, behind my back, but I hardly noticed. I only noticed when he wasn’t there…
He was an absolute geek at science. He knew all the answers, all the explanations; he knew why things did what they did. But yet he yearned for more. He wanted to know more and more; he wanted to know everything. He was obsessed by the compulsion to know how things worked and why they worked like that. It was as if he could make a little of his own life make sense, by making sense of everything else. Maybe his life was far more complex and confusing than we all thought at first.
He used to tell me everything he found out. When we were together, at night, he would talk and I would listen and I would enjoy the constant sound of his voice and the vibrations in his throat as I leant up against him. His wonder at everything held me captivated and often amused at times…
A lover, a friend, the hours we’d spend, just doing nothing at all…
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