How were you able to learn to be sweet and charming as a little boy, and then be as cold and hard as Moses’ pharaoh the next? How could you have impressed me with your mature and responsible disposition, and then leave me bewildered, ignored and neglected by your unexplained silence? How could you have shivered from my touch, insatiably reached out for me, and not give a single sign of longing as days pass by? How could you have listened to me as if I am saying the wisest statements, as if I breathe music to my lips, and then shun and ignore my every cheerful news, achievements and words of endearment? How could you have claimed to love and care for me one moment, and then turn away when I reciprocated it?
Are these one of your unusual flair? Or are they also of my own doing?
I felt left out in the cold, shivering, wondering I was suddenly left standing in the dark, cold nowhere. I wanted to weep, bawl, and scream at the top of my lungs on what’s really going on. I imagined doing this right at your face, but whenever I am given a chance, all that happens is I cower on that piercing stare of yours, and by the time I vehemently opened my mouth in consternation, you silenced it with a melting kiss.
The adrenaline, topped with your fiery seduction, temporarily transports me out of reality, and then back again because it didn’t turn to be a luxurious, long trip. I was back to that frozen seclusion once and again. I know I have every will and every power to remove myself from that sorry, cold state I am in, even if it takes me to be alone in the end, but my incessant battle with pride, love, and whatever they are connected with, always brings me back to my chilly solitude. That no matter how much I try to escape and bask at the beaming freedom, I realize at the end of the day, that loving doesn’t always have to define your warm presence, your cherished caress, your romantic spirit. Love means struggling out from that cold, freezing isolation with you, together with your stoic and unrelenting character. If I couldn’t learn to love you more despite of it, then I should’ve stayed stretched out under the sun, until I scorch, and burn, and turn to dust.
