But remember when I moved in you, and the holy dark was moving too
I took a taxicab from the airport. I did not want Rufus to be bothered in picking me up; there would be enough on his mind to worry him with such a thing. It was almost a process, or rather a remembrance, very similar to our first meeting, slightly over three months ago. Like the first time we met, I brought a single red rose, wrapped in green tissue paper. It was a symbol. A symbol of new beginnings, a symbol of love renewed, a symbol of possibilities.
I paid the driver and grabbled my satchel, all I packed in a rush to get to the airport due to a sudden, inspirational decision to see his face again. It was the smallest of things I could do to prove myself to him. The air was cool, nowhere near the Finnish cold I had grown accustomed to. Luckily I was expecting as such and only brought a thin, long, black wool jacket. My palms were sweating, my stomach turning with anticipation. I stood at his door for a few moments, taking in a few, deep breaths and running a hand through my hair before ringing the bell, hand outstretched with the rose.
Nervousness consumed me, making me fidgety, thoughts and questions filing my mind. Could we regain what was lost? Could he ever forgive me? Would he be happy to see me or strike out at me with anger?
Opening the door, his eyes were wide, still with that sparkle within them, eyes that gleam and keep me awake at night out of longing. He reached out his hand, accepting the rose, fingers brushing over my hand as he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Just like the first time. Was it possible to relive?
He invited me inside; I approached timidly, yet unable to keep my eyes off of him. Even as I entered his flat, I turned so that my eyes were fixed on his. God, it is good to see you. I touched his face, slid an arm around his waist, pulled him close to me, pressed my lips against his. The short beard on his face tickled my skin; I opened my mouth to him, tongue in search of his. That familiar taste. one that bring backs so many memories, so many thoughts, experiences. Yearning to melt against it, to have flesh become flesh, a union of skin molding, combining, becoming one.
We had wine, laid on his bed, my back propped up against fluffy pillows as his head rested against my chest. We shared fears and intentions, promises and gentle words of understanding. The ride twisting and turning us amongst its path, taking us on a journey until words were not enough and promises were made with flesh.
Last night I got to see him perform in concert for the first time. Well, the first time professionally as I had been privy to many private showings, one in particular that stands out in my mind that ended in him bent over his piano. Anyway… he played at Carnegie Hall at the Tibet House Benefit Concert along with Ray Davies, Laurie Anderson and David Bowie. Yes, the David Bowie. I had no doubt that he would hold his own and he did not disappoint.
I felt a bit uncomfortable amongst the semi-elite New York City audience. Luckily, I decided against a typical see-through shirt after I watched Rufus dress in a suit. Breathtaking. I had to borrow a jacket from him, a black blazer, something I did not think to pack in my small bag. In all honestly, the show escaped my mind when I planned my flight, all I could think about was seeing him. The show turned into quite a treat on top of everything.
On stage, he sat down at his piano, exquisitely dressed and freshly shaven and declared, It's good to be back. His words were simple, yet loaded with meaning.
As things stand at this moment, the outlook is good. Every day is a new trial, fresh tears and softly spoken words. It is only understandable. We both have a lot to say, closets of thoughts to clear out. I am just happy to have this second chance to do all of the things I should have done before. At least now I have no doubt where my heart is, where my place is, beside him. I need to be patient and understand it will take time before he can fully trust me again. In my mind, patience is the least I can give.
-Juska-
I paid the driver and grabbled my satchel, all I packed in a rush to get to the airport due to a sudden, inspirational decision to see his face again. It was the smallest of things I could do to prove myself to him. The air was cool, nowhere near the Finnish cold I had grown accustomed to. Luckily I was expecting as such and only brought a thin, long, black wool jacket. My palms were sweating, my stomach turning with anticipation. I stood at his door for a few moments, taking in a few, deep breaths and running a hand through my hair before ringing the bell, hand outstretched with the rose.
Nervousness consumed me, making me fidgety, thoughts and questions filing my mind. Could we regain what was lost? Could he ever forgive me? Would he be happy to see me or strike out at me with anger?
Opening the door, his eyes were wide, still with that sparkle within them, eyes that gleam and keep me awake at night out of longing. He reached out his hand, accepting the rose, fingers brushing over my hand as he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Just like the first time. Was it possible to relive?
He invited me inside; I approached timidly, yet unable to keep my eyes off of him. Even as I entered his flat, I turned so that my eyes were fixed on his. God, it is good to see you. I touched his face, slid an arm around his waist, pulled him close to me, pressed my lips against his. The short beard on his face tickled my skin; I opened my mouth to him, tongue in search of his. That familiar taste. one that bring backs so many memories, so many thoughts, experiences. Yearning to melt against it, to have flesh become flesh, a union of skin molding, combining, becoming one.
We had wine, laid on his bed, my back propped up against fluffy pillows as his head rested against my chest. We shared fears and intentions, promises and gentle words of understanding. The ride twisting and turning us amongst its path, taking us on a journey until words were not enough and promises were made with flesh.
Last night I got to see him perform in concert for the first time. Well, the first time professionally as I had been privy to many private showings, one in particular that stands out in my mind that ended in him bent over his piano. Anyway… he played at Carnegie Hall at the Tibet House Benefit Concert along with Ray Davies, Laurie Anderson and David Bowie. Yes, the David Bowie. I had no doubt that he would hold his own and he did not disappoint.
I felt a bit uncomfortable amongst the semi-elite New York City audience. Luckily, I decided against a typical see-through shirt after I watched Rufus dress in a suit. Breathtaking. I had to borrow a jacket from him, a black blazer, something I did not think to pack in my small bag. In all honestly, the show escaped my mind when I planned my flight, all I could think about was seeing him. The show turned into quite a treat on top of everything.
On stage, he sat down at his piano, exquisitely dressed and freshly shaven and declared, It's good to be back. His words were simple, yet loaded with meaning.
As things stand at this moment, the outlook is good. Every day is a new trial, fresh tears and softly spoken words. It is only understandable. We both have a lot to say, closets of thoughts to clear out. I am just happy to have this second chance to do all of the things I should have done before. At least now I have no doubt where my heart is, where my place is, beside him. I need to be patient and understand it will take time before he can fully trust me again. In my mind, patience is the least I can give.
-Juska-