Is that it

    I hope in your dreams
    that he loves your eyes
    like I did...
                      ....just for a while
                                          ------ Is that it, my friend  by Damien Rice

    I am lost in your laughter, forever seduced by the way your body moves as you laugh. Sitting across from you on our back-porch in this bright sunlit late afternoon I have brought you roses for your birthday. And your favorite chocolates. I am keeping the main gift for later. As the waves from the sea off our beach house serenade us, I tell you that after our friends have all left this evening I would be yours for the night, that you could ask of me to make all your secret fantasies come true. I cannot help but laugh along with you as I listen to you tell me what you will have me do. The brightness of your eyes, the curves of your lips as your words paint pictures of the night to come, the call of your skin to mine, the desperate hunger in my desire to taste your entire body, an all too familiar mix of raw addictions I have long struggled to come to terms with.

      I pull you gently by your hands off your chair and into my lap. Your back to me, as I embrace your body tightly into mine I whisper into your ears, "Did I tell you, my love?"
 
     You tilt your head back to kiss my chin, and wait for me. I smile into your eyes, and say, "Did I tell you how restless my heart feels without you?" You angle your head further back to offer me your lips and I envelop them in mine.

     When the spray from the waves at high-tide lapping up the beach wakes me up, it is night. As the surroundings seep slowly into my consciousness, the expanse of the sea looms larger than usual in the low moonlight. I look back at the house. It is unlit and dark. I silently voice "Happy Birthday, my love," and get up to walk back to the house.

     As I open the screen door I almost miss seeing the roses laying at the threshold to the house. 

Away from me

By the time I remembered the glass of whiskey on the side table, the ice in it had melted. The shot of cold Talisker burned my throat with familiar fire as I drained the glass empty. From my rocking chair on the back porch I had an unobstructed view of the setting sun. Mesmerized by the gentle bobbing up and down of the waves of liquid gold on the horizon I watched the sun set for a while. When it was finally dark, I reached back behind me to switch the porch light on and turned back to the book you had given me long ago. I had started reading it again earlier in the day, seeking comfort in its familiar words. As I opened the book, a neatly folded piece of paper fell out. I froze for a few seconds, remembering what was on the note...

I didn't sleep last night. All I could think about was you and me and the years we've been together in our strange way. And the more I thought about it, the madder I became. When Sam discovered our relationship, you threw me under the bus, Michael. You left me to deal with it. And I did. And you swore you'd never contact me again, but you did. Why, Michael? You were already seeing your girlfriend when you contacted me, so why did you do it? My reaction to yet another fake fucking email address from you, was correct. I was pissed and I should have stayed that way. But obviously, I'm an idiot where you're concerned.  What really kills me is that I didn't get a clue when you came to my hometown and didn't bother telling me. You could have told me about your girlfriend then, Michael, 4 months ago, but you didn't, you just kept talking about us getting back together in SL. What are you, some sort of fucking sadist?  You're the one constantly babbling about real life and SL, but you're the one who can't seem to keep it straight. You didn't even have the balls to actually tell me the truth, no, more fucking TYPING.

Let me be very clear - if I ever want to speak to you again, I'll let you know. Until then, you stay the hell away from me.

          JJ

 I poured myself another shot of whiskey, before bending to pick up the paper.