The books of the past

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's about a twenty-five year old on the verge to a grown-up lifestyle.

Submitted: August 25, 2014

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Submitted: August 25, 2014



- The books of the past - 

here we go. here I sit, at my desk in front of my window the size of the one in a prison. I assume, I guess, maybe its just the way it makes me feel. It’s not raining but the sun is not any near either. You know that in-between, that normal, neither black nor white but just that grey that makes me sad inside. A year ago this weather might have been ok and would not have bothered me at all. But today the world is different then it was a year ago. Maybe it is just me, no, i know its just me and I hate the fact that i was so much happier back in the day. 

Im past my teenage sorrows and not yet troubled by middle age. Though I am not sure whether this situation is any better then these two. I am a good twenty-five years old. Ambitious like none I have met before. Quite smart some would say. Me, I believe to be smarter then average, yes, but knowledge can be a curse to the one who has it. Sometimes I’d rather be less smart, not dumb, but just enough not to question everything and to think about consequences and results, in numbers and physics, in possibilities and chances. I’d rather just think less and be, right now, right here. Not thinking ten years ahead, constantly painting the results of my actions today. Everyone knows its useless anyways. Our each future can change in an instant. The sooner we know that, the better for us in case something happens.

Ok, let me tell you why exactly I am today sitting at my desk writing this down, pressing those letters on little plastic squares on my computer that somehow translate into words on the screen right above. This story is about life i guess and life is about love and, depending on your goals about other things as well. But its not just about some girl or some guy, no, im fortune enough to write a story about the two of them. Yes, im from that century where this is possible and not so uncommon to be honest. I crave her, I miss her, I miss the fantasy im stuck with. The feeling of her skin touching mine, her lips meeting mine, her hand touching my face, my hands on her back, hugging her united in spirit. I miss picking her up from the airport and spending value time. Then saying goodbye, letting go again. It creates this very special bond, a craving for each other. She lived two thousand miles away speaking a language which i didn't understand and that made me even crave her more. I loved her, indeed, with all I was, every single molecule. What happened? Well life I guess. Today she lives with this blond, quite handsome and well educated man in one of those  small one, maybe two bedroom apartments in the city. Nice cute furniture from ikea and cheap wine glasses that due to heavy use break every once in a while. I mean I wanted her to be happy and I kind of am, but im still thinking what if. Its a dangerous and, i think, foolish question but still I lay awake at night painting pictures in my mind of what ifs, trying to fall asleep with them. 

Then there is this boy, sometimes man, that helps me escape from my structured life. He taught me how to feel and to be open and to share my feelings. He introduced me to something new, a world far from mine but I liked it. Where I come from, this world of same sex love is not a very accepted one and to be gay not really cool. When I think of him, I think of color and happy moments, of a life with no consequences, no boundaries, a life lived in freedom. His soul used to understand mine without words. He knew what I liked and didn't like. We communicated with a simple look in each others eyes and thats what i craved about him. Its not sex, not an attraction from things seen but rather from the things unseen. I would love to spend time with him at the beach house, eating Mexican food and drinking wine. Laughing together, talking, coming closer mentally and physically. Leaning towards his warm body, kissing him softly. The thing is, I really don't know if its the unknown and sinfulness that attracts me so much to this situation or if its a real thing. Something that would stay and grow. Do I even want to face the consequences this brings along? I simply don't know.

Its that kind of story where boy meets boy and girl and girl and boy meet boy. Lets go back in time and let me tell you one of those countless love stories. When I first met her, the sun was setting on the horizon and rising inside of me. She was on the dance floor on a party boat right in front of the beautiful California coast. Yes, the one place they say dreams can come true. I went up to hear and started dancing with her. No words needed, just two people meeting in one of humans more relaxing ways - dancing. After the dance I asked her to join me for an after party at a friends place. After some work of convincing, she agreed to come along. Well it’s been a interesting party. Me and her talking on a bed. Yeah, just talking, that’s what you do when you really want to get to know someone. I did and after the party we kissed. Our first kiss, our first goodbye. The next day I had to leave the city for a trip up north and she had to leave back to her country after a beautiful summer abroad. That night I had so much endorphin in my body I was not able to sleep. I felt in love with her, she had me and that magic wouldn't let me go no more. After that first page of our story was written, many more happy pages were added to the book. Chapters written in places all over the world. Then after six months a new chapter started. One I didn't like at all, a painful one. Never in my life was a single person able to keep my heart locked up for such a long time. It took me 3 years to let go and be ready to start writing a new book, with new characters, new stories, new happy moments. 

It was during this time when I met this boy, let’s call him Andrew. Andrew showed me a new world and made me write again. He showed me how to pick my pen up once again and start a new book, a new first day. Andrew was bi-sexual and until I knew that, time passed and many stories were written. I can not really remember when and how I found out but from that moment on another world opened up to me or I opened up to this new world. It was in my early twenties when testing my limits and experience new things were part of my daily business. I was energetic, young, wild, carefree. To get a taste of that world I kissed a handful guys on the lips in the kitchen of a college apartment. I don't remember what it felt like when my lips collided with the lips of another man. All I know is that this night things got crazy and i definitely went out of my comfort zone and conquered new land. The most beautiful chapter was written during another night - a more calm one. We had to drive for about three hours from San Diego to Los Angeles. We started just before the sun went down in a very cheap car. Due to cracks in the tire we had to drive slow to make sure the tires wouldn't pop. The drive was good - good talks, beautiful music. On the way we stopped and found an amazing authentic wooden restaurant. God, what I would give to relive that moment. After dinner we continued and when we came closer towards the city lights the atmosphere within the car was magical - not to describe in words. That night I fell in love with him. I fell in love with his soul and that was the start of a difficult road for him and me.

Many chapters later I still loved him, not exactly the way I loved her, different but alike. I loved her because of the magic and him because of the way we connected and the stories we wrote together. Time passed and Andrew dated all kind of men and told me about it. I was absolutely ok with it because I loved his soul not his body. With time I had the feeling that he loves me differently then I loved him, even tho he would never show when he was sober. But for some reason his emotion towards me were nothing alike when sober and drunk. He knows that I said I was straight, but am I really? In my mind I still would like to live out the picture painted in my head of him and me in that beach house alone. What makes me sad today is that I didn't act when I could and I didn't try when I have should. Today things are different - life changed. I don't aloud myself to be as free as I was years earlier. Im concerned about the future and instead of living the way I really want live deep inside, I live the way i am expected to live - making every effort towards being grown up while in my dreams I rather be young, foolish and careless. Was that all the time I got to be young? Is today the day of another new chapter - a more sad and serious one? Can I still go back or do I need to let go and turn my back on the past focusing on a colourless world?

- Luc -

© Copyright 2019 Luc Sanders. All rights reserved.

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