The last time we had anything together for Valentine’s was five years ago. Before then, when it was permissive between us, we’d been kept apart by mutual thoughts that were never shared. By the time we eventually shared them, we had become spoken for by others. But that did not deter us, because knowledge of what we felt for each other, encouraged us to permit the illicit even though it was dangerous. In those days our hearts will race to touch and be rhythmically united when we are locked in warm embrace, and not until we’d had a fill of each other that it reverts to the normal.
We would after a while decide that we are done because of guilt, give each other some space, only for our hearts to grow fonder with time spent without physically touching each other. Hence, when we make up, we make out for all the time we kept apart, each time with more intensity than the last time, till again we burn out as our morality creeps in to keep us in check because truly, our lives together isn’t what we’d thought to sacrifice our lives apart for. Our frequent battles and hiatuses would make compatibility a challenge should we consider our twenties over our eighties, but maybe they wouldn’t exist without the extenuating circumstances that presently subsists. The unknown has never been an easy path to career even when it appears greener, especially when the greenery of the known lacks only in the very few things the unknown possesses.
We were not the first things we saw when we woke up in the mornings, but the best time of the day when there was no schism between us was our half. Every given opportunity was good enough excuse, and there were no places too sacred for us to indulge in our indiscretion, which was just so right for us to be wrong. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and a new day was another occasion to discover new ways to pleasure ourselves, unless those suspicious of our game upped their ante and we reverted to status quo, like we’d never seen of each other, beyond the fabric we were covered in. Some days which started with intention to not engage in the first place, ended up becoming the days we peaked, even burrowing into uncharted regions of the clouds in ecstasy.
As lovers get knit this Valentine, we will be apart, because once again it’s our recess period, but maybe we will plant each others’ faces on those with whom we will share our lovely time for the day, and do with them as we would’ve done with each other. Maybe it will not be as explosive as it would’ve been had it been us together, but at least it won’t cause us to give those others some space as we do with each other after turning a major corner in our escapades. It must be that we are convinced, that our next rendezvous would be such for which erotic legends are made, so much so that bridging the lacuna that will thus be created will be herculean, for which the thought of reigniting the smoldering flames for now remains a consideration we are mutually reluctant to make, either for fear that it may be capable of finally thawing us away from our officially established paths, or will be followed by yet another gulf that will entail that one of us disappears for good, leaving the other in a heartache from which there’d be no recovery. A lose-lose situation that should encourage us to keep each other at bay this Valentine, and maybe perennially.
VALENTINE BLUES | https://madukovich.wordpress.com/2017/02/12/valentine-blues/
Published by m'khail madukovich