Day One
3:15. I was dreaming about him. All the ghosts that I thought I had buried in the past were whispering in my mind, their voices taunting me like spider legs crawling down my spine. I hate spiders. I saw him just as he was that last day in June. His fierce grey eyes spoke of a life not yet lived, of turbulent storms and a rain filled heart. He was saying something ... trying to say something. I reached out to touch him again. All my adult life my strongest desire has always been to hold him, to feel him, to be encapsulated in his world just once more ... and to say I'm sorry. I reached out to him, but the hands I saw reaching out were not my own. They were soiled and dirty and had the stench of the grave. I was detached from them and the more I tried to reach out with them the more he backed away, whispering. Whispering until he was just a faded memory once again. What did he see? Did he see me? Or did he see the ghost?
I woke up peacefully this time. 3:20. There was no screaming, there was no bloody corpses rushed in a torrent to my fingertips, there was no raging remorse. Just a memory. Thank God. I had been having these nightmares all week.
I was cuddled up snugly in Rainer's arms, spooned by him, tucked away safely by his hot body. I had that silent wish again though that they were his arms, his frail and fragile arms holding me instead of Rainer's confident and manly arms. I was such a child. I wonder if Rainer knew that I could never love him the way he needed me to.
"Are you awake," came his voice from the darkness. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to talk.
"Yes." He moved his rough hand from my chest to my forehead.
"You're not sweating. That's a good sign." I loved his accent. German. So radically different than my own hillbilly curve I tried so hard to straigthen out as an adult.
"Mmm hmmm," I answered, praying that he was only half awake and talking to me from a state of semi-consciousness. Thankfully he was. I lay there, the imposter in his arms, with my body tingling from the touch of his, but my mind racing miles away.
I untucked myself from Rainer quietly. I didn't want to wake the slumbering. I pulled myself into the darkness of our bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. There was a ghost standing there in the mirror.
"JESUS!" I screamed, ducking as if the ghost would attack me.
"Josh!" Rainer came rushing into the bathroom. I had collapsed right by the door. I was sitting there in a fetal position, tears gliding down my knees uncontrollably. "Oh my God." He bent down and in one swoop he had me in his arms. How could I explain this? How could I explain what I had seen? How I felt? He could never understand the pain, would never understand the horror.
"It's ok, baby. It's ok. Sssh." He lifted me up and his eyes were serious. They wanted an explanation, but he knew better than to ask me about it right now. I dared look back into the mirror. I had to. I turned slowly only to see the reflection of two beautiful naked bodies intertwined. A perfect chocolate and vanilla swirl we were, wrapped around each other.
"Here," he said. He walked over to grab a towel for me and as he walked I watched his naked body. He was so fucking beautiful it killed me. The sight of him like that was enough to make me forget for just a moment all the reasons I hated myself and remember instead all the things that could make life so divine. The sight of the perfect naked man.
I remember when I felt that way for the first time. When I knew the power the male body would hold over me. I was 12. First day of middle school. First day in the boys locker room. It was as if it all was happening in slow motion. The boys were smiling and laughing and joking around each other, slapping each other with towels. They began to undress and I swear I could hear my heart beat, echoing all around me like like a symphonic timpani. I couldn't breathe. The shirts being pulled over the heads revealing perfect flat stomachs, happy trails and navels. Shorts being tossed off revealing the secrets of sin and the promise of pleasure. Chocolate gods they were to me. Beautiful brown gods with muscular arms and fleshy thighs and legs of stone. Their beautiful rods swinging in that glorious manner. For a moment I thought about touching them, smelling them, tasting them, feeling them and wondered what it would be like. I came, right there in my gym shorts. It's a good thing I was invisible. No one ever noticed me anyway. I stood in the corner as they got dressed to go their next class and it hadn't dawned on me that I was staring. For the most part it escaped them too. I was the weird one, the one who always dazed off in class, the one that talked to himself, the nerdy one without the sense of humor. So, it surprised me that suddenly I was being pushed head first into a locker. Time resumed its normal speed.
"What the fuck you looking at, faggot!" some boy screamed as he body-whipped me into the locker. It didn't hurt. It was as if I was waking up and found them all laughing at me. I was an oddball. I knew that. It was ok. The bell rang and they immediately forgot about me and rushed off to wherever their schedules said they had to be. I stayed there on the concrete for a moment and wondered how I would make it though the rest of the day with sticky shorts.
I woke up peacefully this time. 3:20. There was no screaming, there was no bloody corpses rushed in a torrent to my fingertips, there was no raging remorse. Just a memory. Thank God. I had been having these nightmares all week.
I was cuddled up snugly in Rainer's arms, spooned by him, tucked away safely by his hot body. I had that silent wish again though that they were his arms, his frail and fragile arms holding me instead of Rainer's confident and manly arms. I was such a child. I wonder if Rainer knew that I could never love him the way he needed me to.
"Are you awake," came his voice from the darkness. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to talk.
"Yes." He moved his rough hand from my chest to my forehead.
"You're not sweating. That's a good sign." I loved his accent. German. So radically different than my own hillbilly curve I tried so hard to straigthen out as an adult.
"Mmm hmmm," I answered, praying that he was only half awake and talking to me from a state of semi-consciousness. Thankfully he was. I lay there, the imposter in his arms, with my body tingling from the touch of his, but my mind racing miles away.
I untucked myself from Rainer quietly. I didn't want to wake the slumbering. I pulled myself into the darkness of our bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. There was a ghost standing there in the mirror.
"JESUS!" I screamed, ducking as if the ghost would attack me.
"Josh!" Rainer came rushing into the bathroom. I had collapsed right by the door. I was sitting there in a fetal position, tears gliding down my knees uncontrollably. "Oh my God." He bent down and in one swoop he had me in his arms. How could I explain this? How could I explain what I had seen? How I felt? He could never understand the pain, would never understand the horror.
"It's ok, baby. It's ok. Sssh." He lifted me up and his eyes were serious. They wanted an explanation, but he knew better than to ask me about it right now. I dared look back into the mirror. I had to. I turned slowly only to see the reflection of two beautiful naked bodies intertwined. A perfect chocolate and vanilla swirl we were, wrapped around each other.
"Here," he said. He walked over to grab a towel for me and as he walked I watched his naked body. He was so fucking beautiful it killed me. The sight of him like that was enough to make me forget for just a moment all the reasons I hated myself and remember instead all the things that could make life so divine. The sight of the perfect naked man.
I remember when I felt that way for the first time. When I knew the power the male body would hold over me. I was 12. First day of middle school. First day in the boys locker room. It was as if it all was happening in slow motion. The boys were smiling and laughing and joking around each other, slapping each other with towels. They began to undress and I swear I could hear my heart beat, echoing all around me like like a symphonic timpani. I couldn't breathe. The shirts being pulled over the heads revealing perfect flat stomachs, happy trails and navels. Shorts being tossed off revealing the secrets of sin and the promise of pleasure. Chocolate gods they were to me. Beautiful brown gods with muscular arms and fleshy thighs and legs of stone. Their beautiful rods swinging in that glorious manner. For a moment I thought about touching them, smelling them, tasting them, feeling them and wondered what it would be like. I came, right there in my gym shorts. It's a good thing I was invisible. No one ever noticed me anyway. I stood in the corner as they got dressed to go their next class and it hadn't dawned on me that I was staring. For the most part it escaped them too. I was the weird one, the one who always dazed off in class, the one that talked to himself, the nerdy one without the sense of humor. So, it surprised me that suddenly I was being pushed head first into a locker. Time resumed its normal speed.
"What the fuck you looking at, faggot!" some boy screamed as he body-whipped me into the locker. It didn't hurt. It was as if I was waking up and found them all laughing at me. I was an oddball. I knew that. It was ok. The bell rang and they immediately forgot about me and rushed off to wherever their schedules said they had to be. I stayed there on the concrete for a moment and wondered how I would make it though the rest of the day with sticky shorts.
posted by Saturn at 1:16 AM
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