Defining Paranoia

Infatuation

I sat next to him. Was it meant to be or was it a coincidence that our last names started with the same letter? That both my name and his had the same meaning? That both our mothers gave birth to us on the same day? Was I insane for bringing these thoughts to my mind?

I sat next to him and he smiled at me. Was it a sin that I loved the way his lips curled up to form that smile? Was it a sin that I adored how his eyes twinkled and shone with sincerity and pureness?

I sat next to him and my heart began to pound, my head began to throb, and every blood vessel in my body was screaming baffling things my mind couldn’t grasp. Was it wrong to even think of him the way I did at this moment, the moments before, and the moments that will soon become?

I sat next to him and memories cluttered my head. I remembered who he was. I remembered the way he would look into my eyes and reassure me that everything will turn out to be just fine. I remembered how he would greet me every time I see him with a hug and the same phrase conflated with a wink, “Lookin’ good hot stuff!” I knew it was a joke, but God did I wish he meant it.

I sat next to him and I forgot where we were. We could have been in the presence of the most successful of the richest and I would have thought of the place as anonymous. All I saw was his face. All I heard was his voice. All I acknowledged was his presence, and I was sitting right next to him.

I sat next to him and he made me laugh. His jokes would tickle the butterflies in my stomach and what lay beneath. His remarks comforted my sinful heart and calmed my throbbing nerves. The looks he gave me and the smirk he sent my way reminded me of how much of a sadist this life we live in was. Still, I did not care. I sat next to him, and that was all that mattered.

I sat next to him and I was overwhelmed with the inexplicable feeling that I have longed for so long to decipher. It was overpowering and frustrating, so abstract and nerve-wrecking that I could not focus my eyes, my mind, or myself at anything. It caused my stomach to turn, my head to lighten, and my lungs to stop functioning. I was sitting next to him. I really was.

I sat next to him and I started to wish for what I shouldn’t even be thinking about. I wished, and I wished, and I continued to wish. I wished so hard that I could have sworn he knew what I was wishing for. I wished and I asked God to forgive me for what I had wished for. At the same time, I prayed that my wish would be granted for me.

I sat next to him and I knew that I had to leave. I knew that it would not serve me well to be seated next to him. I knew what it would do to me, what it did and what it will continue to do. I knew because of the warmth I felt when he shook my hands or pulled me close for a hug. I knew because of the way he grinned at me and patted my back. I knew because I simply knew.

I sat next to him, but I decided to leave. I could not stand being in denial for any longer. As I left he looked into my eyes and I diverted my gaze. I wished again, but I knew God would never grant me this wish. I wished again, and I prayed I never had to wish for it again. I wished again, and one more time and he would understand. I wished one last time and I left.

My mind, my heart, and my soul were still sitting next to him. God, how I wished for my wish to have come true so I wouldn’t had to leave. Then I would still be sitting next to him, devouring every moment spent by his side. But alas, it would be nothing but a sin. For what I had experienced with him, I did not experience with anyone before. And now he knew …

As I neared the end I questioned my existence. I questioned my life. I questioned myself. For the first time in my short span in this world, I realized what I should have realized long before this last day.
I was never supposed to be born a man.

posted by 5ada @ 12:02 AM 3 comments

Theory of Love

She stood aloof staring straight into infinity. Her hands were freezing as was the tip of her nose. The wind blew at her scarf, but she made no attempt to put it back in place. It was a miracle she still had the energy to breathe. Her mind was wandering in a different realm, an alternative world where happiness wasn’t an abstract concept and sorrow ceased to exist.

At the back of her head, a film was playing. There were no images, no moving pictures. There were only emotions, unspoken and invisible feelings. That was her alternative reality; a world where her heart smiled and her soul was alive. In the solitary state she was in, away from that realm, her heart hardly produced any vital signs. It beat, but it was void of any emotion. In the reality she created in her head, her heart experienced all emotions.

The clock struck the hour. The world began to live while she stood detached from reality. A rush of life passed by her and she could almost feel her heart beat. Her chest produced a slight movement indicating the intake of a breath, a clue that she was not dead.

A smile was beginning to form in her mind. An image of warmth and love was overwhelming the screen of her film. Words of passion were engulfing her sense of hearing. The feeling became so overpowering, so intense, that her eyes flickered until finally, they shot open.

The world stopped at that instant. Life appeared like a still painting to her. She did not look at the whole picture, but instead, she noticed the details. She grasped the fine lines that accentuate the larger image. She devoured the delicate textures of the painting, one by one, and her heart livened more.

She felt warmth in her heart as a brush of life touched her hand. She was able to sense and feel as if she were back in the real world again. The brush of life lingered around here and she tried to focus on it. She wanted to grasp that as well, but she could only grasp small things, details and fine textures, she faced difficulties decoding large images.

The brush of life became more intense. The feeling was overpowering her. She felt passion, strength, love. Whatever it was, it provided her lungs with life, her brain, her heart, her ears, her tongue, her nose, her skin, and finally, her eyes. She could focus. She could see as well as feel. The brush of life was no longer a brush, it was real, it was solid, it was divine.

She breathed it in, filled her body with this new feeling of absolute euphoria. Not only did her lips curl up forming a smile, not only did her heart beat to a symphony of laughter, but her soul was alive again. She was alive again. She could live, and not only her alternate reality, the one she created for herself in the back of her head. There was no void in her heart. There was no emptiness in her soul. She was complete. She was accomplished. She was obsolete … but she loved it.

posted by 5ada @ 5:24 PM 0 comments