Fear

I remember each moment like it was yesterday. Sitting and watching T.V. in a place I considered comfortable; happy. Not once did I think I’d be where I am today, fearful. I had never expressed completely my homosexual thoughts but they were present and flourishing in my early teenage years. More often than not boys made passes at me that often lead to mild groping and moaning, nothing more... until the day I met him.

Clear as day I can still see him emerging from the bathroom in a towel dripping wet and steamy, a quick glance seemed to say a thousand unspoken words at once. What I can recollect as only desire lead me to his bedroom for what was supposed to be a brief moment. I overstayed my welcome. I was enjoying myself, finally a break from what seemed like an hours long episode of a series I wish I could switch off. He was charasmatic, charming, I saw him as perfection then. Strong hands that could comfort the storm inside and somehow create one as well. Still I remember his touch like reciting the national anthem, word for word he took me on a journey most inexplicable. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and I couldn’t resist him; he had become a part of who I was. Waking each day thinking of how to get to paradise where he’d be waiting for me.

I thought to give him my skill, to bare to him something new, something I knew would solidify something that should have never happened; Sex.

A day as hollow as the rest, no one around to distract or delay us I decided to further my offerings of pleasure. He seemed more than anxious to accept, it made the experience all the more fulfilling. Hands behind his head he lifted his hips to allow his pants to fall at my tug of them. To see it, the center of his sexual desire, all mine doing? It was power, it was a thrill to say the least. I pounced into pushes and pulls I knew he’d love, he an orchestra and my tongue the willing conductor.

allegro.

adagio.

trio.

...And silence.

The job was done. Mission accomplished, a hard days work finished before I knew it. I knew inside that I had unlocked a new part of existence but at what cost? What do I give up when I give in? Months passed and the closer I moved the further he ran away, I was unsure, insecure. I took it as a closing of a chapter. Another great story written...

But at what cost.

He told me so much. He told me his dreams. He told me his fantasies. He told me his fetishes. He told me everything I needed to know but his fears.

I sat alone, day in and out wondering if God were real and punishing me for my sins, was I living out the most biblical of tales? I trusted you, I wanted you and only you. In my world where only hate and chaos exist I seek you out. I cried as if the oman were a dagger itself and he was murdering me each day... for years.

Power.

Blood... Sweat... Tears.

When do you find me to fix me? When do the tears begin to stop? When do I feel nothing? Your touch, your taste, the smell of you I clutched for in the darkness to get me through? I stopped sweating, I stopped crying so tell me... when do I stop bleeding?

You told me everything... Til you became everything.

When will I make love? When will I receive it again? When do I feel like I won’t hurt my next lover?

When do I stop living in fear?