So it happened. And happened again and again and again. And each and every time you came and took and left again with nary a second glance my way. You may give but it was always on your terms and your terms alone. I always got left behind contemplating on the sanity of the situation. I was throwing my better judgment in the wind in search of something that left me feeling - empty.
Empty. I stared at the wall for what seemed like hours after you left and felt – empty. A sacred act that supposedly expresses one’s feelings for one another felt like an orchestrated activity that one just had to do. Step 1: Say Hi! ; Step 2: Kiss; Step 3: Fondle; Step 4: Get on with it; Step 5: Climax. Step 6: Wash and say bye-bye.
I suppose the reason why I kept saying yes was because I was looking for that elusive something. But every single time it happened I always felt the same. Empty.
Love? But I am not in love with you; any more than you are with me. Every time you came I wasn’t the least bit interested on how you lived your life any more than you were with mine. And every time you left I couldn’t care less how you will live your life any more than you care about how I will live mine.
I don’t seek your affection and sweet nothings lovers whisper to each other. Nor do I seek the comfort of your arms for yours are not the one I want.
What then do I want? You? Perhaps. In this world of impermanence, one tries to look for some semblance of connection. Maybe, in those brief moments that we spend together, I can pretend to be cherished by a fellow being, albeit an empty shell like me.
Again, I ask myself, what do I want? Do I want you beyond the function of sating my body? Would I want you to want me beyond the same function?
My mind looks for answers. The wall remains as it is – blank. And like my heart, empty. Tired from the activity that led to my musings, I turn off the lights and sleep – an empty, dreamless sleep.
