She Was.

Her skin was soft. Her skin put me at ease. Her skin pulled away my angst, stress, and haziness. It was therapeutic in its endless sublimity. It felt better when she loved me. She felt better when she knew me. She tasted better when I knew her. Her heartbeat told a story. Her breath exuded her essence, her aura, the thing that I couldn’t see, only felt. She had the power to open my eyes. I was born again inside her, no longer wondered what it would be like inside that work of art. There was nothing sweeter than her. When I was with her I knew who I wanted to be, where I wanted to be. I couldn’t convince her to feel the same. She drifted and I sailed. 


Bewilderment fell upon me as I sat and gazed at her reflection, taking it in, tasting its colors and seeing its flavors. My mind began to run and I tried to remember the time when I was satisfied just by seeing her on the platform every morning. Time became muddled and I couldn’t figure out when that was no longer enough. I lost sight of the transition. When did just the simple sight of her stop making me happy? At what point did that desire to just look turn into the desire to speak, then to touch, then to kiss, to fuck, to love, to hold and caress. When did she become a necessity?

At some point in history my breathing became shortened and my heart’s palpitations banged against my chest begging for her presence because her sight was not enough. I was reduced to a bulb with no electricity. She became the Tesla to my coil, the one that gave me life, the being that wound me up at the start of my day and kept me going. For without her I’m reduced to nothing. Useless and forgotten, lifeless and rotting, a mindless zombie wandering without a purpose; wondering if this feeling is forever, or if I will grow tired of her. Is she just a phase? Am I just HER phase?


“You know what your problem with women is? There’s not an ounce of persistence in your body”

“Why do I have to be persistent? Shouldn’t an attraction be effortless? The one for me isn’t gonna make me jump through hoops. She’s not a sadist. There are other ways for me to prove I’m a man who can be dedicated and work hard for what he wants.”

“You have a point somewhat but you can’t always think that way. Women are all different. Women are God’s greatest gift…”

“My ‘God’ is Science.”

“Then you should know adaptation is the way to survival. Change your ways to move ahead. Go out there and try something different and see what progress you can make.”

“It’s not like finding her is my main priority anyway. She’s out there for me, that’s the point of soulmates, you find each other without looking”

“If you say so. What do you know about souls, you’re an atheist”

“It’s just an expression. I still believe in an inherent attraction between the right people through chemistry.”

“So you’re saying we all have a single piece that completes someone else’s molecular puzzle?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes. Just use your God-given eyes and look around. You see people whom you’d never find attractive in a million years in relationships with other people you’d never approach. ‘How in the world did that guy find a girlfriend?’, you say to yourself. Chemistry my friend.”

“But how do you know it was chemistry? They could break up tomorrow. Chemicals have shelf lives y’know.”

“You’re missing the point. It’s the way I view it. We’ll get ours eventually. I just don’t believe in forcing anything or going out of my way just to not have that same interest reciprocated.”

“What a load of Bologna! Quit the pusillanimity. You’re just afraid of failure so you’ve brainwashed yourself into this delusion. Shit happens, you ge…”

“Hold that thought, my wife is calling me.”