After a few minutes, I looked up. His eyes met mine and like a trance, he was lost in my gaze. His lips fell apart and grew soft.
I had him again.
He stopped fighting for his strength to sit up and collapsed into the bed.
He was powerless.
He was all mine, however I wanted him. I wouldn’t give him back until I decided it was time. But first, I was going to make him lose his fucking mind.
iwritewithstyle asked: I love the anonymity of your blog. If I ever run across you in Denver I hope to be a good story, and not join all the bros
Thank you! and I hope so too.
and hopefully a ‘good’ good story… not a good story like the majority of mine that spawn from the asinine individuals and the situations they create. haha
he had fabulous plans and grand ideas.
they were constantly changing.
he never followed through with any of them.
he presented each new scheme so convincingly.
for just a moment, i’d believe him.
but then i’d remember.
he was still at the same job. still making excuses. still blowing his money on liquor. still putting off finishing his first big art piece. still guilting me for being in a better situation than him and still asking me for favors. still complaining about the city. still talking about moving away. still in the same little apartment with the roommate he hated. still not talking to his dad. still talking about finishing school. still canceling our plans because he ‘didn’t feel up to it today.’ still telling me he’s depressed.
it had been so long… and he was still only everything i’d ever known him to be.