I have been alone my whole life. It took me a long time to find him. And after I loved him, the life I'd led up to that point became unbearably lonely. It has been that way ever since.
"I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.) "
I didn't like him when I first met him. I'm not a fan of pretty boys, I always feel like they're going to end up stealing something from me(but that's a comedy for another day). I remember what he was wearing. I remember the exact moment I fell for him. Well, not the exact moment, but the events leading up to it. I remember that split second when the moment of concentration passed across his face and I remember how I fell even before I could catch myself. I remember how he smiled when he realised I'd fallen. He always knew what I was thinking. It's not difficult, what I'm thinking is always clearly visible through my eyes. But no one ever thinks to look there. I like to think of that moment as mine, something he can't ever taint with his actions.
A few years ago I read a short story based on the Sleeping Beauty fairytale, it was called Briar Rose(I don't remember who it was by). It's set about 50 years after Rose is put to sleep, when she'd been asleep longer than she'd ever been alive. The story is told from the perspective of 3 people: The evil fairy who cast the spell who has grown soft over the years and is filling Rose's head with dreams about disappointing princes so that she will be prepared for the worst(because "princes are a beastly lot"), Rose and her recurring dreams and a prince who thinks he is the one who is going to wake her. Of course the prince is wrong and he ends up tangled in the thorns and bleeding to death. The fairy counsels Rose in her own way. And Rose, who's whole family is dead and is now left with no choice but to trust the evil fairy.
I was cold for a very long time. Asleep. When you're in that state, every day can feel like a year. I used to write and study and read to make the time pass faster. But then we kissed. It was like waking up for the first time in a century. Somehow, the 100 years I'd spent cold and alone felt like a bad weekend. Maybe I'm still dreaming, maybe he was one of the terrible princes that the fairy put in my dreams. But I was alive, I was awake. And now I have to go back to sleep. The very thought is unbearable.
I always had these fantasies about what my first time would be like and then I grew and realised that, in general, it's not perfect and the man you want isn't necessarily the man you get. I got used to the idea of not having my perfect man and the day I really accepted that, I decided to have drinks with a friend and he was there. The moment I walked through the door and he turned and looked at me, I knew he would be my first. He'd fallen for me too. And I could tell just by looking at him. I could read his mind too.
To be that transparent to someone is not like anything I had ever experienced(least of all with a man) and to be with someone who was that transparent to me made me feel like I may be human.
We kissed, we held hands, we smiled at each other from across the room and annoyed everyone around us. We walked on the beach and talked over many dinners. I slept in his arms every night for what felt like my whole life. I watched him get ready in the morning and I knew I was happy. He held me when I cried and he always said the right thing. I've never been so reckless. I've never been so in love. So that it felt like I wasn't even myself, like I was some crazy woman in love who can't eat or sleep because her stomach was so full of butterflies. I cried when he left. He told me that it was okay for me to feel whatever I was feeling. I miss him. When he left he said he would miss me too. I don't think he does, but it's okay because for a very brief moment I got to be happy and in love and someone else.
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