The Conflicts of the Mind

Part Five

Fragments of a Love Letter

It's a fight between the thoughts of, is this a paradise in hell or a hell in paradise? You are holy. You are sinful. For all the things my body can crave, you should be one forbidden. For all the things I could never have. I pray for it. Because the idea of us has been divine. And to look at you has made me feel like the luckiest woman alive. I condemned myself with you even before I could realize that I never took it for granted.

In my mind, you are as unholy as you can get. And before my eyes you are as holy. Furthermore, the thought of you is walking through realms.

It's a sin, the pleasure you wake with a simple touch. When I cry out that I'm yours, I shame myself. Couldn't I just keep that to myself? I would never say something like that. I have always found the phrase repulsive. But, when I cry out the words between moans. When I say it to my friends in talks. When I think about it, everyday. It comes out so naturally it scares me to admit that I really meant it when I say it. But how could I not if when I'm under you I don't want to go anywhere else.

You have corrupted my pureness and now I constantly sin. At the same time that my sins turn into pure thoughts.

I was kicked out from heaven, but the way you send me back makes me think that I never left. Are you the redemption I'm so desperately looking for? Or are you here to remind me where I stand still? But we both know the answer to those questions. There is a space between us, where nothing stays, nothing belongs, yet everything exists simultaneously. Time is obsolete but it never stops.

It's in the way your hands run over me. Sending heat scorching throughout my veins, blurring my judgment. Just the simple gesture of your gaze can stop time and make me submit to your words. And to be honest, why would I want that to end? You feel fascinating, a delight to appreciate. Yet you must go eventually and all that will linger but you will not be here to feed it.

I would ask you that when you go, to not leave your hands all over me. Leave with your kisses and fade with the lingering memory. Leave with the unspoken words, the silent pleas of being yours. Leave the promise that you might come back. Leave me with those beautiful lies. Though, it feels as horrible and unfair as it sounds. The beauty of it is just as torturous. Even though that is not entirely what I want. Because up to this point I already made up my mind.

I want to live with the memory of you. I want to live remembering how you feel, how you taste, how you are. I want to live with the reality that you will not come back. Because I do not want to torture myself with uncertainty. Don't leave me with painful lies, I know the truth. And even if I don't wish for it, release me. Because back then you didn't wanted me to release you, I went back to you and it was the best thing I did.

Release me because if you call again, I will answer. Release me, because, if you ask me to wait for you, I know I am beyond capable of waiting. Because no matter what, when or where, I will feel as yours as I am mine. Even if you don't want me the same way I want you.