Welcome to the writers club, for all the writers with the mightiest touch…
I write what like, I like what I write!
I like to be right, but I don’t really write to be liked!
Well, today morning has really been an awkward one.
We are in love! Are we? Or are blind? Or maybe its just love in a hopeless place!
I awoke and had the most awesome and awkward conversation with this person I think am in love with till someone decided to spoil the boiling broth by adding some cold water! I have now been forced to restart the conversation but this time I am less gassed.
What is love? I don’t know, I hate it, I don’t believe in it, but yet, when it’s her, I seem to want to use it, because apparently, it best describes what she is to me.
MCs don’t cipher as much, we need to read and write as a writers club
Love is many things, all I can say, believe or don’t, but there’s always that one person who fits perfectly. Like old romance novels that have the girl fit within every crevice of the handsome chiseled body, I am starting to think they were writing about me and her! The body language speaks love, adoration, respect, want, need for that one person to be close to you!
Come to think of it, the night at the barbecue when I was with her in the dark corridor, I held her and she turned, and my body went all ‘kiss her’! I could feel the intense pull, the glow in her eyes even in the very darkness! She tagged at my shirt and its then I knew, there was something. Something we were both denying, something we knew couldn’t be.
Or could it. I sat in the car that evening thinking about that one moment, maybe I was wrong, but am sure I was sober! She had forbid I take any alcohol, and try as I may, when I held the beer, the convulsion towards the bottle was awakened in me by her words. Drinking anything would go against my promise to her.
How can someone have so much power, tame you, and have you listen to their every word? Well, she was, she was doing it, unknowingly she didn’t know she was the one taming me all this time. That the first time I held her in my arms I needed for her to remain in my arms! Every time I held her, she found the right crevice in which to place her head, the way she placed her hand on my chest, she made me vulnerable, made me want to protect, made me want to be a better man.
Why I am feeling this way when deep inside, I can’t. Well, the environment can’t allow for something like this even when I know the truth, the truth that the bonds that hold us are bonds of a deeper friendship our parents have had!
She once told me of a story of how I threatened her as a child, and in me, I wonder how I could do that.
I am confused. Why should love find me in a hopeless place? Why should the right person love you but in the wrong-est of situations!
I am the author of so many books to write!
I sit here on the laptop, confused as ever at what I have written and more so about my feelings of her!
Maybe I should just shut it down and forget this all happened in the first place!