My mind is in a constant state of change. One day I'm content, the next, restless and anxious.
Today, I'm restless. Today, all I can think of is someone I shouldn't allow to enter my head. I feel guilty, foolish and stupid. It's been over a month since I touched him, smelled him, held him. Before that, the sixteen year absence seems nonexistent. The warmth and happiness that came from our faces that night are unforgettable. The desperate want to be loved and touched was everywhere, all around and in us. I can't remember why or how I leaned in to him, only the sparks that lit the dark hidden parts of my heart. The parts I've hidden away, the few pieces I've managed to save, they now long and ache for him. Watching the road ahead, knowing at the end of it, the same shell I've hidden in is waiting for me. In that moment, when I allowed the hatred to enter again, he put his hand gently on my head, stroked my hair, and smiled with those infectious lips. The cold dark lonely places within me came alive, every possible crevice was lit and in love with life again. His hand felt like pure bliss; unjaded and untainted by life's cruelness.
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