Title: “Somebody spoke and I went into a dream”
* Model - http://jessiehail.tumblr.com/
We walked through Hell together, didn’t we?
Sometimes, I like to consider how things might have happened differently. I could have left that night under the stars, gone forever and not stolen that last brush of my hand against yours. That last touch was exquisite. It was a singular moment of longing when my eyes met yours and I became consumed in their intensity.
On nights when I’m feeling particularly vulnerable, I’ll imagine that I resisted the warmth of your skin. I’ll pretend that I quickly took my hand back as if it hadn’t happened and flashed you a wry smile before I departed. I would have gone back to being on my own—alone—and emotionally invulnerable.
“You’re not damaged,” you murmured once. That was the night I kissed you for the first time. It was captivating and fierce. It was hard and agonizing. It was fingernails dragged across skin in between soft caresses. It was utter abandonment and violent elation. I remember how in the midst of it all, you drew back and whispered my name amid uneven, ragged breathing.
We weren’t destructive together, were we? No, we were two individuals who met under the strangest of circumstances and made each other feel alive after a lifetime of emotional rigidity. I like to think it was fate that was destructive.
Three months and fourteen days later, I still find myself wishing I had never met you. Maybe if I hadn’t, things would somehow be better. I wouldn’t be sitting under the stars missing a time when I stopped feeling anything, and you wouldn’t be wherever you are because I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I couldn’t—
“Stop apologizing for everything,” you used to tell me. “You can’t fix the world.”
It’s a bad habit. I tried to break it over three months ago when I looked at you for the last time. You held me in your arms, and I was so angry with you. No, not angry, distressed. Helpless. Hopeless.
“I love you”, I should have said.
“I’m sorry”, I whispered instead.
Old habits die hard.
…my days consisted of waking up and going to sleep. Darkness filled the time in between. The darkness was like sitting in a hallway with no windows or lights. I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. It really didn’t matter.
You changed that.
You saved my life.
You and your flashlight.
You opened the door and let the sun in.
I can never reply you.
All I can do is say,
She wore a mask made of hair.
She hid your heart with black leather and a bottle of whiskey.
I told her I was not like them…but don’t we all.
I did not think she could love.
I was wrong.
Found this new web site to store my drawings. Spent most of the afternoon uploading.
Still have 19 to put on here.
This is the first what I guess you would call “Work of Art” I ever did.
I was looking through my DeviantArt account and saw this one. I didn’t post it here because at the time I didn’t think I was very good.
I finished this one Sept., 2010.
The girl in the drawing was actually the person that inspired me to start drawing. It’s funny how life works.
This girl saved my life.
At what at the lowest point in my life. I had I had less then a year clean off of a severe addiction to opiates. I had literally lost everything because of the addiction.
When I met her I was in this deep dark hole. Time meant nothing. I didn’t know if it was day or night.
We started talking and because she cared she saved my life.
However, I ended up hurting her. I hurt her more then I have ever hurt another human being.
I was so tempted to relapse. Find any drug that I could to kill the pain of guilt that I felt from what I did to her.
Instead I picked up a pencil.
I was able to get out of the pain when I was drawing. So I started to draw all of the time because the pains of guilt was with me 24/7.
I believe that in life everything happens for a reason. Most times we never find the reason.
I believe the reason why we crossed paths was I needed to learn remorse.
I have hurt people before in my life and felt sorry but if the person never forgave me I was ok with it. Which is basically showing no remorse.
With the pain that I caused this person someone that actually saved my life I now know remorse.
So if this drawing ever is seen by her please know I am so sorry.
And thank you for giving me inspiration to take a pencil and draw something on a piece of paper.
You know the kind that doesn’t want to be alone anymore but because of the way his last owner treated him he runs away from you when you try and pet him.
So you leave some food out by the back step and he will come and eat it at night when everyone has gone to bed. Then in the morning you see the plate is empty and he is off in the corner sleeping. You try to go over to him and he runs away. So you put more food out and go back in the house and watch out the window and see him cautiously come and eat. You do this day after day until one day he doesn’t run away. You sit on the step and call him. He slowly walks up and when you raise your hand to pet him he cowers because he thinks you are going to hit him. But you tell him you won’t hurt him. So he lets you pet him. You ask him in the house but he’s too afraid to come in. So you leave the door open and go about your day. It’s time for you to go to bed and he is still outside. So you leave the door open and go to bed. When you wake up in the morning and see him sleeping on the floor by your bedroom door.
From that day on he is yours forever. He will protect you with his life because you were patient with him and treated him with love.
If love has a color, it would be the color a room lights up when you smile.
If happiness has an aroma, it would smell like the fragrance that lingers when you walk by me.
If someone were to ask what security feels like, I would tell them to gaze into your eyes and feel the strength that only God could create.
If feeling lost could be measured in time, it would be the minutes of the day you are not near me.
If I could take a picture of serenity, it would be you sleeping next to me.
If I could hear compassion, it would be the sound of your voice consoling a friend.
If I could reach out and feel God’s touch, all I have to do is to hold your hand.