[EDITING]
For him, the whole world was on fire except her.
And he didn't let a single flame touch her.
For her, she herself was on fire.
And she protected the whole world from her flames.
Especially him.
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Living with the demons of her past who...
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His touch, his kiss, his breath and his eyes. Oh, his eyes. One look from those deep grey eyes can freeze my bloody veins. Just his look on me can make me feel full and over the top. The way his grey orbs bore into mine with passion, sympathy, care but mostly something so damn deep that I find hard to perceive.
His breath, so warm that it sends chills down my whole body and in a matter of seconds I feel goosebumps on my arms. Just feeling his breath against my skin itself is enough for me to give at least a bit of hope that will make me wake to a new day.
The way his soft lips press against my cheeks to my jaw then down my body erupts volcanoes and surges waves in me. The way he easily manages to find that soft and secretive spot; that will make me drop to my knees, from his lips is immaculate.
The one question that has been nagging me on this drive home is, how on earth did this eighteen-year-old grey-eyed boy manage to make me feel something, that I had been craving for ages?
I have known the fact that I was in love with him since the first day he gave me a nickname and the way it sounded coming from his mouth, the concept of love flourished in me. But, I wouldn't trust it because I was so young and would a thirteen-year-old know about love?. Day by day and month by month which gradually lead to years made me realize that I did find love when I was just thirteen. Those years I spent after he left to his father, made me miss him but mostly hate but little did I know that hate followed love. For four years I had loved him. Out of it, three years I loved him without even hearing his voice or feeling his breath or even see his presence. It was like I was fantasizing about a ghost.
When I told, that I had to let go of everything bright and beautiful of my past did I mention that letting go of my first true love was the hardest, even though I knew I was holding on to nothing? Despite the difficulties, I did. I did let go of him, the love, the look and the happiness he brought into my life. And, after fighting for a month or so I presented myself as someone who had never loved, never felt happiness, never had anything good about my past. Simply, someone who was only filled and wrapped around trauma, pain, anger and sorrow.
But, here he is back in my life, brushing his fingers over my thighs and trailing kisses down my body, feeling his breath against my skin and filling that empty spot that once used to be his. Last nights encounter made me question it all. It made me question the unhealthy decisions and choices that I have made for myself. Paradoxically, he even makes me wonder whether I should allow myself to be in such pain.
A light has flickered in this dark tunnel that I have been walking but I have this large tendency to draw myself back to the dark. It feels like going after the light would be illegal and somehow sentence me to lifelong jail time.
I could say there are some things stronger than my emotions and feelings towards Damien and it would be the tragedy of losing my virginity, playing a small part but causing a major reason for my own elder brother's suicide and driving the car with my baby sister down a cliff under the influence of alcohol causing me and my family to lose another child. And, these are issues that could never be undone or solved and tell me, how can anyone make peace with that? impossible. So, yes! telling me to go towards the light is something that could never be done especially when my past is way too tragic, dark and so messed up that I can not leave it behind. I will forever be a slave for my bygone days.
