Under normal circumstances, I would have refused her offer, but these were unusual circumstances and I was in no mood to refuse anything. Not from her. She did not know it yet, but I was never one for carrying on casual relationships. Not in any sense of the word. That is completely outside of my comfort zone. Although my reputation was not solidly etched, my feet weren’t touching the ground, and my head, along with my heart were somewhere deep in the clouds. An intelligent player I often called myself, as if that mattered or added some bit of credence to the fact that I already had a girl, and was only playing myself. Casual anything was never my style. No one-night stands, or random lap dancing, no wrapping my tongue around someone else’s woman. No, none of that. To indulge secretly meant giving a teeny tiny piece of me to someone else. And the combination of her words, slick as hell, and her timing, which she obviously could tell, were impeccable. The invisible little women hovering above each of my shoulders made me think that maybe I could play a different role for a change. Maybe I would even like the way she’d call my name.
The truth is, I thought I could do it because the woman at the helm did inspire in me something I’d never felt. With others, I could find a safe retreat from whatever plagued me. That meant I did not have to think, I could just forget about everything. Rinse, and repeat. But loving easy never meant that my own desperate need for reciprocity was being met. She didn’t look at me in any way in particular, no judging that I was aware of or pointing out flaws with indexed fingers. She was seeing me through the discrepancies. She inspired in me something, particularly the fulfilling of one need. A right of passage, so to speak. There were no lines that she was given, no careful planning to avoid sinning. I kept the fairytales at bay, so I could tell a story someday.
At the time, there was no story there. No words or sounds, no worrying. She was simply an interruption, a blip on a vast horizon of thoughts I had. Kind of like coming upon a vestibule and finding absolutely no place to hide in. She was safe or so I thought, not knowing kindness could be mistaken for love. She was just one of the many options that I pretended to like choosing from.
But nothing with me is casual, not even my silence is accidental. She accepted all of it, but still wanted me to be her protagonist. My response was reactionary, and her face, I could have framed. For it resembled my ego, and was as fragile as it came.
It would have been too easy. Too safe. It would not matter how much I loved or how much she longed, it would have hurt in the long run. I did not jump without any consideration. Although I had my spot already picked out, and the air felt paper-thin. I was as tight fisted as a heart, resisting the urge to fall deeper in.
I did not… no, I refused to rip her pages out that easily. I valued the entire book, but my outlook did not present this as an ideal situation. Still, I did not refuse, I could not refuse, and there was something about her that made me choose.
When I accepted, we played the game. Our roles had no rules. The manuscript was as loose as an unbound page. I choose to role-play, and to create plots in stories. The reason I did not refuse her is because I am not the causal type. Every thing I do I insist on throwing myself into. Most people, mind you, cannot handle that. They claim otherwise, but perception is just as blind as it was at birth. With their 20/400 vision having asses, filling unnecessary space with dispassionate worth. Focused on watching faces instead of reading minds. Trying to learn the game, but lacking any spine. Hard for no reason, oh wait, they claim it’s to get by.
But that is not why I did not refuse her. For a long time I believed that the one who became my soul mate would eventually leave. I almost stopped believing in love. It was a lesson I learned after losing my first. She made me feel more alive than I ever imagined, and when she was done toying with me it hurt. It left a hole in my soul that never dispersed. She lived a life of regrets and I wallowed in her world. We believed that we could save each other from peril.
The reason I did not refuse her is because she taught me. She taught me how to love without fearing its loss. She taught me to love myself, and asked for absolutely nothing in return.