The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
You won’t be able to hurt me, or touch me.
I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
I thought you didn’t want to let me go.
How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.
It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
Your eyes were too intense to stare into for long.
I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
You know, maybe if we’d met as ordinary people, one day, maybe... maybe things might have been different. Maybe I could have loved you.
Everyone will look. Even if they think it’s impolite, still they will look.
People love what they’re used to, I guess. No. You shook your head. People should love what needs loving.
I wish I had amnesia so I could forget what you look like.
Anyway, it’s easy to be what people want: give them something to stare at. nod and smile, tell them they’re gorgeous.” You flashed me your best charming grin before you added, “The three steps to money.
All I could think about was you. I wanted you in that apartment. I wanted your arms around me, your face close to mine. I wanted your smell. And I knew I couldn’t – shouldn’t – have it. That’s what I hated the most. The uncertainty of you.
It’s Hard To Hate Someone Once You Understand Them.
Pain means it’s healing.