RIGHT IN THE FEELS (a compilation)

Sometimes

"You've told me your deepest fantasy; uninhibited, almost unhinged, passion with only you on the receiving end – for eternity," he uttered, repeating my words out of his own lips, but not in a mocking way. Never with contempt when he asks a piece of my mind. "And that you see it for what it is – a fantasy."

"How about what you are dreading? What is something you'd never want for you?" he continued and I took a second to ponder his words, before finally looking back at him.

"My eyes," I answered, pausing again to gauge his reaction, to see how the cogs and wheels in his mind are working almost the same pace with mine. Almost. "I'd never want for my eyes to change."

He grunted and nodded in response, as if he understood completely what I just said without the need for me to unfold further.

"I've seen things... and I've seen a lot," I carry on, carefully as always. As if I'm trying to make him understand my truths. As if I'd like it if he'd truly recognize my demons. "Not letting just anyone to touch me," I emphasized, how I am not only talking about physicality. "Most of them would deem me ignorant. Inexperienced. Hell, innocent."

"You are never those things," he cut through me, his face void of judgment. I don't know why I am always searching for it in him... judgment, contempt. Or maybe I know why. To cement my belief that nobody can and will understand me. Well, fuck, nobody dares like him.

"No. Far from it," I chuckled a little, letting my mind go back to my previous train of thoughts. Those that does not center specifically on him. "I might haven't experienced their pain, but I've seen it. I watched it unravel. And hours later, it shouldn't have stayed and haunted my thoughts, but it did. It's a beauty, as much as it is a curse. To see things, that their sins steal my attention, that I marvel at their pain. I am always watching."

We both lulled for a minute, letting my words dance in the air, sink through its depths.

"I'd never want for my eyes to change," I repeated like a promise. A pact I made with myself long ago. "As I've seen their eyes changed over the years. Over all the settling. The letting. The suffering. Their eyes changed, and it's irrevocable. With the quantum of shadows in mine, my eyes changing would only mean one thing – that I've finally lost. Myself. My soul. And I'd just be an empty shell of someone I once was."

"You don't always get what you want, you're aware of that."

"I am," I nodded. "But what I dread can't be a part of that equation. I have control over it, and I can make it happen. Making sure that it's not a chunk of the always. That it'd be a fragment of the sometimes. Sometimes, sometimes, I get exactly what I wanted."

"You would. You will," he whispered, voice laced with certainty that would scare me if it isn't him who spit it out like a vow. An oath. A blood pact. "I'd never want for your eyes to change, too. Not even to quash traces of darkness. All your shadow, your murk, and gloom. A lesser person would want them gone... but we both know that is something you wouldn't want. It's a fraction of you, and we'd see to it that it's part of the sometimes, too."