electricity and magnetism
a topic i'd planned to muse about before. however, the last day has done a lot to shed light on it, or confuse me, considering that even though i feel him, even though i feel like i wake up crying into his chest, even though i feel his arms around me to comfort me, even though the nearly healed tattoo still burns, i'm so lonely without him here. no tears (or not as many anyway), just dispair. i can't hear him, can't touch him, can't kiss him, can't look at him. even though he can talk to me, look at me, kiss me, and touch me, it's not enough. my life is so lopsided without his presence and yet i'm greatful i can still feel him at all, even though the other side of that blade means i miss him that much more, remembering how it used to feel, used to be.
i could always feel him. i realized it shortly after we met.
I was drawn to him immediately. a magnetic, sarcastic, charming, gigantic, funny guy. despite the zit on his cheek, he was so cute. and appealing, completely appealing. we always had a connection. it crackled in the air at the party where i met him. it flowed from his palms to my wrists as he pinned me wrestling. it grew stronger as i learned more about him and started to believe he cared. it was all we could do to contain it on our first dates. it flew from our fingertips as we touched and our lips as we talked and kissed, and balled up in the air between us, gaining momentum as it spun waiting for a ground. the first time we slept together it was like that environmental charge entered our bodies. we tried to fuck it to ground, but it never left. we threw each other around and bit & scratched and one-upped each other forever. it flowed from his back to mine, through our chests and arms and lungs. and then, despite having just fucked the shit out of each other, we layed there, playing with the energy, relaying it to each other with tender strokes and holding hands. I wanted to touch him all over. to feel every piece that i could, even back then. did i know then why i'd need to? his body was so strange and wonderful to me, so unlike all the others. even though i never had found it attractive before in my life, i loved all of the soft hair on him. loved his dark skin. I loved his wide hips, the hole in his chest that gave his pecs more definition, his strong arms, his legs like trees. fascinated by it all.
we held hands afterwards, and he remarked with suprise that i let him. i had no answer other than a shrug with a smile. that act of tender vulnerability alone was so rare for me, and he knew it. that small victory meant everything to him. the next time he came up, i knew i just wanted to be near him, to know him. it didn't matter if we fucked or not, despite all signs pointing to perfect compatability. i just wanted his gorgeous face looking at mine, i wanted to feel him radiate next to me. i wanted to infiltrate his brain and unleash everthing i could into my world. and I got all of it that night, from our walk, to extascy jd's party.
throughout our elationship we shared an attraction & a connection so strong and beautiful that i can only explain it as magnetism, or electricity. how else could i pine for his skin & presence so? how else could I feel him in the rain, see him in the clouds, and feel like he was next to me during beautiful moments only i witnessed, even before he was gone? how else could i want him near me all the time, even before i loved him? how else could i have known to ask the right questions to get the answers that mattered out of him? how else could he have known when I REALLY needed him? how else could he have found me so absolutely beautiful all the time, in no clothes, no makeup, no effort? i will never fully understand the connection we had. I can only be thankful for how beautiful that made our entire relationship, both during & in hindsight. it really makes me wonder about fate...wonder if we were only so connected because i would lose him one day. haveing what we had makes his departure a little easier in the sense that i remember so vividly with all 5 senses, but not so easy in the sense that it makes me want him even more, because however strongly, what i feel of him is just a close approximation of the real being i worshiped.
we hated being apart. even when happy, it burned. seemed unfair, unnecessary. we talked about it all the time. I'd watch magnum PI and look at facebook pictures to miss him less. he'd do the same, minus the tom sellick. when we were together we reveled in every minute. I didn't sleep much the first few weeks we dated. i was so excited and enthralled, and touching him kept me awake. he held me in his arms so tightly all night that i don't think i've ever touched so much of somebody for so long, and still woke up rested, when i wasn't waking up ready to jump his bones.
yes, the fact that we wanted to see each other as much as possible had something to do with sex in addition to how fascinating we found each other. the sex was amazing. intuitive. animalistic. energetic. enthusiastic. satisfying. copious. we didn't have to try - we just did what felt good until we were too tired to do it any more. we fit together. we pantomimed sex in our sleep and woke up in various states of insertion all the time (awkward when staying over at friends' places, but otherwise my favoirte way to be woken). eventually i learned to sleep, and in his arms i got the best most satisfying sleep of my life. i always felt safe, protected, connected. we were having a blast, fucking like rabbits, picking each others brains, learning each others lives...and then it happened.
love, along with making love for the first time. I called it what it was immediately, and he beamed at the vocabulary i chose, taking it as a sign i was melting. it felt different from plain sex because the energy felt different. instead of parts & acts, there was only us, together. it felt like we fused, melted together...like our love itself, making love felt like a perpetual motion machine: just going faster and stronger and saying "fuck you, thermodynamics." it felt like our hearts beat in time, like our breath came together, like we saw the same flashes and felt the same waves. and i'm sure we did. we felt such a powerful connection during & after & ever since that we talked about understanding how love launches ships, builds the taj mahal, and creates the most heartbreakingly beautiful art and violence ever.
it shocked me as much as it shocked him... the first time we made love, after bracing ourselves by holding as tight as we could as long we could, we had to pull apart and go "what just happened? what WAS that?" it was love. and it only got stronger, better. as we grew to know and understand each other more, the electrical bond of physical love got tighter as our emotions aligned. every day i loved him more, craved his presence more. EVERY TIME WE HAD SEX OR MADE LOVE IT GOT BETTER. i still remember the very last time. it was the best time. i felt everything in my whole body...beyond understanding. nigh impossible.
that electric or magnetic bond was always there. i could see, touch, hear, or taste anything wonderful & feel him immediately... i generally knew what kind of time he'd had any night, before we even talked about it. i just knew before dialing the phone that i should. there were very few times when i couldn't read between the lines of conversations or texts...and then when he trusted me, i didn't have to.
when we were apart, that feeling bothered me when he was down. it energized me but made me lonely when he was happy. and it told me he was dead before any confirmation. my stomach sank at 11:30. i just knew. but the rope of electricity between us wasn't severed completely. i still feel him with me. feel his arms on mine occasionally. feel him stroke my hair, kiss the top of my head. i wake up crying into his body, seeing his face...
at the funeral yesterday, i sat alone across from the casket, just looking at it. that wasn't craig. all of his energy was gone away from the matter he was just fun chemicals now. his hands were small & cold & his eyelashes were all wrong. i realized what was left of craig was the energy next to me, his arm around my shoulder, letting me cry but whispering in my ear: I love you veronica smash. don't worry, things will be ok. you'll get there. it meant so much to feel him, feel his reassurance. it helped me start to make peace with the thought that i was lucky to have experienced him at all, even though I never will agian, & likely nothing ever will compare.
the funeral experience was bizzaare, but i felt an odd peace and acceptance afterwards, for the first time. and a little less numb. and a little less mad at music. I did a little irish wake at the halloween party in madison, and had a wonderful debaucherous time that he would have approved of (i throw a shovel better than a man, if the goal is to launch it & get it to stand straight up blade down). wearing his kilt in his honor. i felt him there with me, with us all.
there was no grief until his presence made me feel incredibly lonely. it washed over me that though part of him was here, the parts that i could interact with weren't. i felt so alone in a room full of my friends because i couldn't have him, couldn't see him, couldn't talk to him. i pulled the knit cthulu lauren made him out and held it, so small. i pulled a piece of yarn on his head & it unraveld and stopped at his eye. now it looks like he's crying. one day i'll make him not cry, but not now. not when i'm still so sad & lonely. i'm not alone, just so so so lonely. i tried not to cry in a room full of people, tried to politely converse. i ended up curling in a ball and clutching cthtulu to my face and falling alseep.
i only slept 2 hours. i woke up feeling my face in his chest, feeling his arm around the side of my ribs, feeling his head above mine, and i just started to cry. cthulu was there crying too. i know i have more lonely days & nights ahead of me.
previously i'd treated greif like acid - i avoided mirrors. but getting dressed for the funeral saturday was different. i felt pretty with nothing on my face. i felt like he was looking into my eyes and looking back telling me "you are so beautiful." it was wonderful and yet bittersweet, like feeling his presence. it makes me feel a little better, a little something, a little less numb. i did feel some physical pain today, so maybe that's what the lonliness creeping in is - just another sensation. some feeling other than sadness or oblivion.
i only know that i'll always love him, always feel him, always cherish the things he gave me, taught me, and the ways he changed me. i will see him in everything i do, and hopefully i'll continue to see myself through his eyes, & love myself more. bittersweet. nigh impossible.
i could always feel him. i realized it shortly after we met.
I was drawn to him immediately. a magnetic, sarcastic, charming, gigantic, funny guy. despite the zit on his cheek, he was so cute. and appealing, completely appealing. we always had a connection. it crackled in the air at the party where i met him. it flowed from his palms to my wrists as he pinned me wrestling. it grew stronger as i learned more about him and started to believe he cared. it was all we could do to contain it on our first dates. it flew from our fingertips as we touched and our lips as we talked and kissed, and balled up in the air between us, gaining momentum as it spun waiting for a ground. the first time we slept together it was like that environmental charge entered our bodies. we tried to fuck it to ground, but it never left. we threw each other around and bit & scratched and one-upped each other forever. it flowed from his back to mine, through our chests and arms and lungs. and then, despite having just fucked the shit out of each other, we layed there, playing with the energy, relaying it to each other with tender strokes and holding hands. I wanted to touch him all over. to feel every piece that i could, even back then. did i know then why i'd need to? his body was so strange and wonderful to me, so unlike all the others. even though i never had found it attractive before in my life, i loved all of the soft hair on him. loved his dark skin. I loved his wide hips, the hole in his chest that gave his pecs more definition, his strong arms, his legs like trees. fascinated by it all.
we held hands afterwards, and he remarked with suprise that i let him. i had no answer other than a shrug with a smile. that act of tender vulnerability alone was so rare for me, and he knew it. that small victory meant everything to him. the next time he came up, i knew i just wanted to be near him, to know him. it didn't matter if we fucked or not, despite all signs pointing to perfect compatability. i just wanted his gorgeous face looking at mine, i wanted to feel him radiate next to me. i wanted to infiltrate his brain and unleash everthing i could into my world. and I got all of it that night, from our walk, to extascy jd's party.
throughout our elationship we shared an attraction & a connection so strong and beautiful that i can only explain it as magnetism, or electricity. how else could i pine for his skin & presence so? how else could I feel him in the rain, see him in the clouds, and feel like he was next to me during beautiful moments only i witnessed, even before he was gone? how else could i want him near me all the time, even before i loved him? how else could i have known to ask the right questions to get the answers that mattered out of him? how else could he have known when I REALLY needed him? how else could he have found me so absolutely beautiful all the time, in no clothes, no makeup, no effort? i will never fully understand the connection we had. I can only be thankful for how beautiful that made our entire relationship, both during & in hindsight. it really makes me wonder about fate...wonder if we were only so connected because i would lose him one day. haveing what we had makes his departure a little easier in the sense that i remember so vividly with all 5 senses, but not so easy in the sense that it makes me want him even more, because however strongly, what i feel of him is just a close approximation of the real being i worshiped.
we hated being apart. even when happy, it burned. seemed unfair, unnecessary. we talked about it all the time. I'd watch magnum PI and look at facebook pictures to miss him less. he'd do the same, minus the tom sellick. when we were together we reveled in every minute. I didn't sleep much the first few weeks we dated. i was so excited and enthralled, and touching him kept me awake. he held me in his arms so tightly all night that i don't think i've ever touched so much of somebody for so long, and still woke up rested, when i wasn't waking up ready to jump his bones.
yes, the fact that we wanted to see each other as much as possible had something to do with sex in addition to how fascinating we found each other. the sex was amazing. intuitive. animalistic. energetic. enthusiastic. satisfying. copious. we didn't have to try - we just did what felt good until we were too tired to do it any more. we fit together. we pantomimed sex in our sleep and woke up in various states of insertion all the time (awkward when staying over at friends' places, but otherwise my favoirte way to be woken). eventually i learned to sleep, and in his arms i got the best most satisfying sleep of my life. i always felt safe, protected, connected. we were having a blast, fucking like rabbits, picking each others brains, learning each others lives...and then it happened.
love, along with making love for the first time. I called it what it was immediately, and he beamed at the vocabulary i chose, taking it as a sign i was melting. it felt different from plain sex because the energy felt different. instead of parts & acts, there was only us, together. it felt like we fused, melted together...like our love itself, making love felt like a perpetual motion machine: just going faster and stronger and saying "fuck you, thermodynamics." it felt like our hearts beat in time, like our breath came together, like we saw the same flashes and felt the same waves. and i'm sure we did. we felt such a powerful connection during & after & ever since that we talked about understanding how love launches ships, builds the taj mahal, and creates the most heartbreakingly beautiful art and violence ever.
it shocked me as much as it shocked him... the first time we made love, after bracing ourselves by holding as tight as we could as long we could, we had to pull apart and go "what just happened? what WAS that?" it was love. and it only got stronger, better. as we grew to know and understand each other more, the electrical bond of physical love got tighter as our emotions aligned. every day i loved him more, craved his presence more. EVERY TIME WE HAD SEX OR MADE LOVE IT GOT BETTER. i still remember the very last time. it was the best time. i felt everything in my whole body...beyond understanding. nigh impossible.
that electric or magnetic bond was always there. i could see, touch, hear, or taste anything wonderful & feel him immediately... i generally knew what kind of time he'd had any night, before we even talked about it. i just knew before dialing the phone that i should. there were very few times when i couldn't read between the lines of conversations or texts...and then when he trusted me, i didn't have to.
when we were apart, that feeling bothered me when he was down. it energized me but made me lonely when he was happy. and it told me he was dead before any confirmation. my stomach sank at 11:30. i just knew. but the rope of electricity between us wasn't severed completely. i still feel him with me. feel his arms on mine occasionally. feel him stroke my hair, kiss the top of my head. i wake up crying into his body, seeing his face...
at the funeral yesterday, i sat alone across from the casket, just looking at it. that wasn't craig. all of his energy was gone away from the matter he was just fun chemicals now. his hands were small & cold & his eyelashes were all wrong. i realized what was left of craig was the energy next to me, his arm around my shoulder, letting me cry but whispering in my ear: I love you veronica smash. don't worry, things will be ok. you'll get there. it meant so much to feel him, feel his reassurance. it helped me start to make peace with the thought that i was lucky to have experienced him at all, even though I never will agian, & likely nothing ever will compare.
the funeral experience was bizzaare, but i felt an odd peace and acceptance afterwards, for the first time. and a little less numb. and a little less mad at music. I did a little irish wake at the halloween party in madison, and had a wonderful debaucherous time that he would have approved of (i throw a shovel better than a man, if the goal is to launch it & get it to stand straight up blade down). wearing his kilt in his honor. i felt him there with me, with us all.
there was no grief until his presence made me feel incredibly lonely. it washed over me that though part of him was here, the parts that i could interact with weren't. i felt so alone in a room full of my friends because i couldn't have him, couldn't see him, couldn't talk to him. i pulled the knit cthulu lauren made him out and held it, so small. i pulled a piece of yarn on his head & it unraveld and stopped at his eye. now it looks like he's crying. one day i'll make him not cry, but not now. not when i'm still so sad & lonely. i'm not alone, just so so so lonely. i tried not to cry in a room full of people, tried to politely converse. i ended up curling in a ball and clutching cthtulu to my face and falling alseep.
i only slept 2 hours. i woke up feeling my face in his chest, feeling his arm around the side of my ribs, feeling his head above mine, and i just started to cry. cthulu was there crying too. i know i have more lonely days & nights ahead of me.
previously i'd treated greif like acid - i avoided mirrors. but getting dressed for the funeral saturday was different. i felt pretty with nothing on my face. i felt like he was looking into my eyes and looking back telling me "you are so beautiful." it was wonderful and yet bittersweet, like feeling his presence. it makes me feel a little better, a little something, a little less numb. i did feel some physical pain today, so maybe that's what the lonliness creeping in is - just another sensation. some feeling other than sadness or oblivion.
i only know that i'll always love him, always feel him, always cherish the things he gave me, taught me, and the ways he changed me. i will see him in everything i do, and hopefully i'll continue to see myself through his eyes, & love myself more. bittersweet. nigh impossible.