Where the angels fear to tread

Only a week ago, since we last went out. Only a week ago, and it seemed eternity...of waiting, of longing, of wanting...only a week ago, since we decided to give halting a try. He seemed determined. I was the one too scared to make the next step. He said I inspire him to be strong.

Only a week ago, and today we are back in each others arms, doing our blissfully filthy deed in the name of love. What kind of love, anyway? Or is it love, at all? I cannot conceive of it still, no matter how much deeply I feel it in my heart, no matter how tenaciously my thoughts hold on to his memory, whenever we are apart.

Over the phone he told me how much he missed me over the holidays. I could hear the emotions in his voice, so frightfully enchanting. Yet again, I refuse to indulge in it. I refuse to believe anything that he's saying, especially when he is so highly-sexed.

But once again, I gave in. What strength would I have for such a man who named my soul so well. I gave in, in spite of my own fears, I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to his spell, to his wanting.

And now I am back again curled up like an aborted fetus in a glass jar. Lifeless, demented, forever gone, forever lost. If only there is a way where I will not lose part of myself each time I give myself to him. If only there is a way where we can love each other without wanting each other even so much more.

Because there is no other way. I shall somehow be the one to go. This time.