Sunday Morning

Sunday 15^th of June 2014

The effect he has on me is incomprehensible. I don’t quite understand the attraction. 

It’s not the eyes; his eyes are expressionless and mute. Even when he speaks clearly, his eyes don’t. They are very disappointing eyes. Or maybe they are windows to his soulless face. This also never changes significantly. Perhaps I am an unworthy impulse to create expression in him.

He likes being powerful and he loves being powerless. He makes me want to shrink to a zero. But he kisses me like a lover he has longed forever for. “Love her like you did 6 years ago”, when all was young, innocent and silent. The universe was just the two of us and not a breath more.

My heart skips a beat when I get a show of interest from him, an extraordinary feeling of helplessness. I hate it and I can’t help it. Usually, I can block these feelings into a mess of ignorance. Regular men; they hurt when I defer to this method. With this one; he’s more likely to be relieved.

He loves being in control. Incredibly in control. He can be very demeaning if he wants to be. Embarrassingly demeaning. He could crush my ego to a powder. It hurts like fucking hell once the rose-colored glasses come off in the morning.

But he kisses like magic. On this particular Sunday we slept like I used to in my dreams, next to a lover who worshiped my being. It feels so much like love in a mistaken haze. This one doesn't. Love me that is. I know he doesn't and he never will.

His kisses are so sweet. Although my inebriated memory falters, are his kisses sweet or mine?

There has to be a sense of abundance within you. Whether it be an abundance of love, an abundance of will or of freedom; no restrictions from family or social restrictions or whatever your chains may be. A sense of abundance is necessary to be one of a kind. This is an exceptional man with an abundance of ego.

An intelligent man with an abundance of ego is a very scary presence. Eidetic memory? I don't know but selective for sure. And a very strong one, remembers things from way back when. Or perhaps he is just incredibly intelligent. Pretending to remember things from way back when. 

Am I a muse, or is he mine? I am scared to a pulp of him.

It's gonna be an ugly game.

I've lost both the pearl ring and the earrings thanks to him.