In Another Life

I made a coy attempt to hide the conflict behind my eyes, offering a somber smile, holding his face gently in my hands. He averted my gaze, knowing fully with every I’m fine that our time would eventually come to a close. I wonder if he knew that our half-baked schemes like trips to Puerto Rico, meeting his family, and getting to feel island sun on my skin were only a dream. “Yes I'm fine. Why do you ask?” I queried. He shrugged and offered a look of boyish honesty, the type that between jokes and sarcasm reminded me that beneath the silt there was a heart of gold. “I want to make sure you’re happy and well taken care of.”

He was more than making an effort, but I didn’t know what else to say. No one has ever understood me on that level, and it was something we both had eternally craved. He felt like ocean waves crashing over me, and I could feel our waters raging in the current, seas merging, becoming one. That sensation had become my drug of choice and I wouldn’t accept anything less. I didn’t come here for a good time. I didn’t come here to find a new romance. I came here to lose my soul. I came to make a deal with the devil and skirt the line between heaven and hell. Then why was it so easy to get lost in the void?

Photo Credit: Benjamin Voros