Love. It can control me. This love's wild as the lion, it can't be tamed, it can't be stopped. It's uncontrollable just like how I was.
I remember how he grabbed my hand while he led us in the distant, away from the group of divers who went with us. There
are more corals on this part of the sea, a school of fish teeming with colors followed along with us as we take a closer look. I felt his hold on me tightened and I can no longer ignore the loud thud of my heart as it beats uncontrollably. I looked him in the eyes, with our scuba gear on, I can clearly see him, us, our future together, that will surely be full of love and adventure. Nothing matters underneath the sea, it's just us in that moment. I only have his attention, his time, his focus, he's all mine.
Now, looking at the letter in my hand, I painfully closed my eyes. I sat down and hugged my knees. I stared at the emptiness, the way it has been since that day. I open my eyes, blinking, stopping the tears on the verge of falling just like my sanity, just like how I was stopping myself every night to stop the thought of him beside me, wanting and hugging me, soothing sweet words in my ears. I woke up in the middle of the night panting, only to dread seeing the empty space beside me.
I don't see myself having a man, not until him. He patiently waits for me to come home, or rather impatiently, he has to call my phone several times to hear my voice, gives me a warm embrace followed by a sweet tender kiss on my lips. He casually asked how my day has been while we're both snuggling in the old sofa with our hands intertwined and my head's on his shoulder while his other hand possessively holds my waist. We spent over an hour kissing, chatting, making out most times before we finally agreed to have dinner. We go back to the sofa while having tea and pastries. And in no time we're both cuddling up in bed after endless whimpering, growls, and groans have subsided. Most nights are sleepless. Most days are good. Some days are bad which turned out to be good at the end because someone's there willing to listen as I rant when I feel too stressed at work, someone embraces me tight when I need some loving.
This was us. That was the dream, a life with him. This could still have been my reality. Until that day.
That day was as clear as the river flowing, he dumped me the moment the woman in her past wanted to get him back. He broke me to pieces, bit by bit with every word he said. Gone are the promises, our plans together, all gone with the wind, our memories turned to pages of a book he has just closed.
I let him go, there was no other option. Not that he needs my permission. Looking at his eyes, he's decided, no one could stop him, he was always like that, brooding, mysterious, and determined. That day, I saw in him a warrior of a different kind, a warrior of love. He's now controlled by his emotions, his love towards that woman.
Love, that's what he used to call me, I asked myself if there ever was a moment that he loved me in its true sense.
He ended us that day. I became a chaos since then, untamed, wild, fierce. Chaos, mess, just like how the sheets on my back were. From the sheets my hands tightly fisted the pillow beside me, my limbs now tangled to his hips while he's hell bent on thrusting inside me. He wants to go deeper that the bed shook, he advanced, never content. I felt him pulsating and still wanting more as my muscles clenched around him. He nuzzled my neck, felt his beard scratching me, a mix of pain and pleasure. I whimpered, he then pushed once more, pulled out, then pushed some more deeper, pounding me harder. Until I lost count, I was so lost in the pleasure he's giving me, my body tired from the aftermath, my legs now numb. I heard him groan, he tenses before I felt him come, conquering the whole of me.
This man in my bed, he never made any promise, but unlike him, this man chose to be with me. I'm not sure of his reason, for pleasure or infatuation maybe? Do I love him? Maybe, maybe not, I can no longer draw the line between love and lust. Both, perhaps.
I pulled the sheets covering us, I looked at the man's face sleeping in my bed, the same bed I used to share with him. It's the closest I can get to my dream, screaming his name in my head while another man is pleasuring me.
--
