Tag Archives: butterfly

Dreaming with butterflies

As I’m sitting in the sun a butterfly zips my way and hits me in the back of my head, it’s a surprisingly big thump for such a delicate light insect.

It is night and I am sitting in the sand, I hear the surf close by but I don’t see it. He is here too I can feel it, I don’t see his face but it is him I can feel his smile, although that doesn’t make any sense.

He is right here but I miss him so much it’s painful. He is standing right next to me but I still miss him. And then, there’s the butterfly, again.

A butterfly in the night.

Then I wake and it’s my cat begging for food.

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Different

Soooo, I was watching Bones on Netflix and my mind started wondering. I am not sure why or how but it came to rest upon him.
I tend to fall in love quite easily, I tend to let my imagination fly without restrain and see a future together, see the potential in us. Of course, is always a construct and, on occasion for a short time it can become a reality. But, in the past, until now, until him I would . . . My mind and my heart would wonder and imagine the future life of all that could be. But not with him.

With him I cannot envision a life together, I cannot see the potential that we could have, there are no thoughts of tomorrow or thoughts of a relationship or . . . There are no visions of the future with him. And yet he never leaves me, he never leaves my thoughts.

With him there are only thoughts of sex and conversations,
With him there are only thoughts of his smile and his voice,
With him there are only leaping hearts and flying butterflies.

When I close my eyes I see him smiling and . . . I feel . . .
I feel something I cannot describe, something that makes me smile, something that makes me  . . . different. Different because I don’t want dinner dates together and the possibility of a future, I don’t believe we are meant for each other, I . . . I just want to lay in his arms, maybe not forever but as much as I can and hear his voice softly talking to me.

I just want sex and conversation. Nothing more. But is so strange because I don’t think I love him but I could.

It is strange because is only sex, but more than sex, it’s what I feel.
Confusion, elation, joy, sadness, more confusion, lust, desire, desire to run either to him or away from him, fear, self-consciousness, lust, lust and the irrational desire to be near him.