… once, in a blue moon?

 I think the one thing that scares me the most is that I don’t have the courage to tell the one person, the one thing that I wish I could. Coming home from a screening of ‘A Single Man’ where part of the narrative deals with fears that remain unseen, my heart beat just a little faster as you do perhaps when you’re about to do something for the first time. And with a week of firsts behind me, perhaps being honest is the one thing left to try out. Even if it is a bit tight in the crotch for comfort.

There are days between us, when we still manage to find pockets of intimacy that can seem either hopeful or outright selfish. Selfish for both of us because he already has what he wants and I do not need anything more than I have. Our eunuch hearts stand at a phantom gate that we cannot cross because in the daylight the truths we choose to believe are less romantic than when whispered between two lovers as they lay breathing heavily, sweaty and immortal.

I have tried to plaster over the wound that seems to fester and spoil, but as we go further down the line things seem to be getting worse as we deny what there is when we’re not together. You can go through your entire life never knowing truth, but then when you find it even for a mere moment, it’s hard to let it go for a lie told to a handsome stranger in the darkness where dirty deeds are done dirt cheap and in the morning you are left alone again with the memories of that first morning.

That first morning when you realised that eternity passed between your fingers, like a lock of dirty blonde hair or when you walk away into the rain, grateful that the salty tears streaming down your cheek are superficially mistaken for what they are not. When they called it a ‘broken heart’ I thought it was figurative, but as the scarred cavity once in my chest heals, the memories still scrap along the edges like a blunt shard of glass against your soft, pliable wrist. When you see him smiling with the lover after you.

But in the darkness, when you think less about the moment and more about the future you have to wonder if anyone ever gets what they truly want or only what they deserve? Moments like these cross my mind as he sits on yet another seat to yet another far-off destination discovering parts of himself while I cower amongst the glamorous parties, the beautiful young things that distract me long enough to forget that once, not very long ago I was loved enough to have had eternity contemplated in the embrace of my arms.

Sometimes I think it really is true that to have loved once, and lost is the lesson we have to experience. Then again, sometimes I think it’s all just a load of shit. What I do know is that once I gave up on love and lost the girl of my dreams. This time around I’m not giving up on a love like ours, because this kinda love only strikes once in a blue moon.

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