Never Again
I'd been there, in every way imaginable. I'd felt the heat of passion, the excitement of the new, the way that love exploded and took over. I'd also felt the anxiousness of the unknown, the pain of separation, and the heartbreak of someone disappearing completely. While the words had never been said, they wove their way through my mind and crept down into my soul, whispered into a brand that was inescapable…this invisible imprint that screamed, to one and all, that I was damaged.
Never again.
Life held its patterns after that. I dated, and once even managed to forcibly, physically, erase the feeling of long fingered hands from my skin. I moved on, all in all. I had survived the worst, but I would make sure it wasn't able to be repeated. Tepid relationships that were either short or held at arm's length ruled. I couldn't be completely satisfied, but I could be content with it. It was on my terms, and while certain elements were missed….
Never again.
The last attachment I had formed barely qualified the name. I couldn't bring myself to truly feel anything but antipathy towards him, and he knew it. He pushed, and I relented, and it felt nice to have someone there to lean on when my the largest blessing and bane of my existence was slowly dying in a Hospice room. His own slew of lies, however, caught him out. It made it so much easier to end it, as his actions were inexcusable. I had an out, and felt guilty for how thankful I was for it.
Never again.
A date here and there, nothing interesting really. One tried to act as if he were my keeper, and so I disappeared from his view. Didn't answer calls, didn't answer texts or messages. It's easier that way sometimes. I'd explained it, as fully as I could, but sometimes they don't listen. It's like they cannot understand, cannot grasp that I cannot, will not, spend that sort of time and energy to chase after someone. Twice was enough, and the last time nearly destroyed me.
Never again.
When I went on this date, I expected much of the same. We had been thrown together by some friends, and our chats had been interesting enough though nothing particularly special. Text in instant message form can only convey so much, and as always I remained guarded in my playful sort of fashion. I would tease, I would tempt, but ultimately remain remote. It would be the best for everyone involved, and all could move on from it as we chose.
Never again.
I'd had my usual nervousness with meeting someone new, so the upset stomach and twitchiness was nothing new. The way my heart pounded when I saw him, though…that was familiar and yet not. I hadn't felt that for a long time. The easy smile and nervousness on his part soothed me, and as we ate and talked (with a mutual friend as a buffer), I relaxed. This wouldn't become a Thing. The smiles lingered and the laughter and enjoyment grew, and it was then that I felt that first touch of fear.
Never again.
Seeing the movie, in and of itself, was no big deal. It was something I'd been desperate to see, and being able to enjoy it before being spoiled about all of the plot was a treat. The way my heart leapt when he slipped his hand into mine, however, was something else entirely. I couldn't resist how excited I was, and I knew my sweaty palms had to be unpleasant to endure. When he pulled his hand away for a time, I wasn't truly surprised. It was needed at that moment, a reprieve from the intensity.
Never again.
The desire I had to place my hand back into his was overwhelming. I had to close my eyes and tamp down the fear. I could have resisted, but I didn't actually want to. I'd finally gained the courage to move my hand those 8 inches and slip it into his, and then his hand reached for mine at the same time. The faint bruise of my heart screamed at me with the mixture of fear and desire that I knew I was likely going to have to get used to. I'd been incredibly intimate with this feeling, this familiarity.
Never again.
I couldn't resist seeing him again the next day. His presence, like a newly discovered drug, was something I couldn't hold off. The feeling was dangerous, but I figured maybe if I indulged I could treat myself and pull away when needed. At least I'd have the taste instead of wondering and having that wondering eat into my brain until I couldn't think straight. It didn't help, though. I knew it when I felt my heart leap as his voice reached my ears. Feeling his fingers on my skin and his lips on mine didn't cure my craving, however. It only made me want more.
Again.
When I called him after he'd left that night, it was because my very soul ached for him. I had to be half asleep in order to get that out of my mouth without breaking down into a puddle. The strangeness, though, came when it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Honestly, it didn't hurt at all. It didn't make that old wound in my chest scream. It felt…good. Freeing, in its own odd way. That pain of finding someone I really and truly liked and being so shocking as to try and let them know how much I liked them, how much I missed them…
Again.
Spending almost the entirety of the next weekend with him set off the nerves again while I was packing for it, but seeing him and feeling his hand slip into mine quieted everything to the barest of simmers in the back of my mind. I was even able to focus on the world around me and enjoy my first time being at a Hibachi restaurant with him and the friends who had put us together. I was ever-conscious of how he'd move and the way smiles would steal across his whole face, his leg next to mine and his hand stealing over to grasp my hand. The grin that kept exploding over my own face couldn't be helped. I didn't have to fake it, and it was confusing how natural it felt.
Again.
Having the chance to feel his arms around me, to breathe in his scent and feel his heartbeat…the desire was familiar, yet the actions held more weight. I had been there and back, and now I was opening up on purpose instead of being swept away by the whirlwind. It was, of course, a whirlwind of emotion and passion, yet this time I felt like I could be in control at least a little. I wasn't being swept away without any choice. This time, no matter how irresistible, it was up to me. It was up to me and I was choosing to go for it. The ache I felt wasn't associated with my heart breaking more with every breath. Heady excitement wasn't something borderline evil to be avoided at all costs. I was still damaged in some ways, but instead of being worthless I'd turned into something valuable; the cracks and smudges and blemishes from being battered and nearly destroyed had given me a patina that had become such a part of me that without it I would no longer be myself…and it didn't make me sick at my stomach to show those parts off. It made me feel strong, fully human in all the ways that I'd loved but couldn't handle for so long.
So much for never again.
Never Again by R. Currence is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at http://indelikatt.livejournal.com/273186.html.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://indelikatt.tumblr.com/ask.
Never again.
Life held its patterns after that. I dated, and once even managed to forcibly, physically, erase the feeling of long fingered hands from my skin. I moved on, all in all. I had survived the worst, but I would make sure it wasn't able to be repeated. Tepid relationships that were either short or held at arm's length ruled. I couldn't be completely satisfied, but I could be content with it. It was on my terms, and while certain elements were missed….
Never again.
The last attachment I had formed barely qualified the name. I couldn't bring myself to truly feel anything but antipathy towards him, and he knew it. He pushed, and I relented, and it felt nice to have someone there to lean on when my the largest blessing and bane of my existence was slowly dying in a Hospice room. His own slew of lies, however, caught him out. It made it so much easier to end it, as his actions were inexcusable. I had an out, and felt guilty for how thankful I was for it.
Never again.
A date here and there, nothing interesting really. One tried to act as if he were my keeper, and so I disappeared from his view. Didn't answer calls, didn't answer texts or messages. It's easier that way sometimes. I'd explained it, as fully as I could, but sometimes they don't listen. It's like they cannot understand, cannot grasp that I cannot, will not, spend that sort of time and energy to chase after someone. Twice was enough, and the last time nearly destroyed me.
Never again.
When I went on this date, I expected much of the same. We had been thrown together by some friends, and our chats had been interesting enough though nothing particularly special. Text in instant message form can only convey so much, and as always I remained guarded in my playful sort of fashion. I would tease, I would tempt, but ultimately remain remote. It would be the best for everyone involved, and all could move on from it as we chose.
Never again.
I'd had my usual nervousness with meeting someone new, so the upset stomach and twitchiness was nothing new. The way my heart pounded when I saw him, though…that was familiar and yet not. I hadn't felt that for a long time. The easy smile and nervousness on his part soothed me, and as we ate and talked (with a mutual friend as a buffer), I relaxed. This wouldn't become a Thing. The smiles lingered and the laughter and enjoyment grew, and it was then that I felt that first touch of fear.
Never again.
Seeing the movie, in and of itself, was no big deal. It was something I'd been desperate to see, and being able to enjoy it before being spoiled about all of the plot was a treat. The way my heart leapt when he slipped his hand into mine, however, was something else entirely. I couldn't resist how excited I was, and I knew my sweaty palms had to be unpleasant to endure. When he pulled his hand away for a time, I wasn't truly surprised. It was needed at that moment, a reprieve from the intensity.
Never again.
The desire I had to place my hand back into his was overwhelming. I had to close my eyes and tamp down the fear. I could have resisted, but I didn't actually want to. I'd finally gained the courage to move my hand those 8 inches and slip it into his, and then his hand reached for mine at the same time. The faint bruise of my heart screamed at me with the mixture of fear and desire that I knew I was likely going to have to get used to. I'd been incredibly intimate with this feeling, this familiarity.
Never again.
I couldn't resist seeing him again the next day. His presence, like a newly discovered drug, was something I couldn't hold off. The feeling was dangerous, but I figured maybe if I indulged I could treat myself and pull away when needed. At least I'd have the taste instead of wondering and having that wondering eat into my brain until I couldn't think straight. It didn't help, though. I knew it when I felt my heart leap as his voice reached my ears. Feeling his fingers on my skin and his lips on mine didn't cure my craving, however. It only made me want more.
Again.
When I called him after he'd left that night, it was because my very soul ached for him. I had to be half asleep in order to get that out of my mouth without breaking down into a puddle. The strangeness, though, came when it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Honestly, it didn't hurt at all. It didn't make that old wound in my chest scream. It felt…good. Freeing, in its own odd way. That pain of finding someone I really and truly liked and being so shocking as to try and let them know how much I liked them, how much I missed them…
Again.
Spending almost the entirety of the next weekend with him set off the nerves again while I was packing for it, but seeing him and feeling his hand slip into mine quieted everything to the barest of simmers in the back of my mind. I was even able to focus on the world around me and enjoy my first time being at a Hibachi restaurant with him and the friends who had put us together. I was ever-conscious of how he'd move and the way smiles would steal across his whole face, his leg next to mine and his hand stealing over to grasp my hand. The grin that kept exploding over my own face couldn't be helped. I didn't have to fake it, and it was confusing how natural it felt.
Again.
Having the chance to feel his arms around me, to breathe in his scent and feel his heartbeat…the desire was familiar, yet the actions held more weight. I had been there and back, and now I was opening up on purpose instead of being swept away by the whirlwind. It was, of course, a whirlwind of emotion and passion, yet this time I felt like I could be in control at least a little. I wasn't being swept away without any choice. This time, no matter how irresistible, it was up to me. It was up to me and I was choosing to go for it. The ache I felt wasn't associated with my heart breaking more with every breath. Heady excitement wasn't something borderline evil to be avoided at all costs. I was still damaged in some ways, but instead of being worthless I'd turned into something valuable; the cracks and smudges and blemishes from being battered and nearly destroyed had given me a patina that had become such a part of me that without it I would no longer be myself…and it didn't make me sick at my stomach to show those parts off. It made me feel strong, fully human in all the ways that I'd loved but couldn't handle for so long.
So much for never again.
Never Again by R. Currence is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at http://indelikatt.livejournal.com/273186.html.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://indelikatt.tumblr.com/ask.