Secret Lucidity(40)

I pray for his words to speak to me through the wind, to tell me it’s okay, to assure me that what I’m doing with David isn’t as bad as what society deems it to be. I pray for him to tell me that everything will be fine. No such confirmation comes though, and I know I’ll have to go through this relying on faith alone.

With all the uncertainty that surrounds me, the one thing I do know is that my father wouldn’t approve. The irony is that had my father not died that day, I never would have found David or needed him in my life.

Everything shifted the moment he died. I didn’t want to believe it, a part of me still doesn’t. Some nights I dream that it was all a mistake and that he’s really alive. Somehow, in some unexplainable circumstance, he’s found.

But then I wake up, and I’m reminded that life doesn’t work in miracles the way fables would have you believe. The world is much too unforgiving, and I can’t go on making decisions based off the hypothetical wants of someone who doesn’t bear any weight in this world anymore.

No element is the same, so who’s to even say whether my choices are right or wrong. Because in the end, it’s just me. I’m responsible for myself, no more a dependent of anyone who nurtures me with an unconditional loving heart. I’m left to walk through life on my own, to make decisions on my own, and to find a new path now that my old one no longer guides me.

I stay a while longer, reflecting on past memories that swell my emotions before the chill in the air becomes too much.

I arrive home with nothing to do as I wait for the hours to pass.

David is returning this evening. He’s been in Florida for the past five days. An old Army buddy of his got married, and since a bunch of his combat friends were there as well, they decided to make a long weekend out of the trip.

Not having him around to distract me has ignited an anxiousness inside of me that hasn’t been treating me well. Although we’ve been texting incessantly and talking on the phone every chance we can, it isn’t the same as having him here. I don’t say anything about it though, because the last thing I want is for him to see me as some needy kid—but truth is, when it comes to him, I am needy.




David: Just got home.

Me: On my way.

I grab my keys and the garage door opener to his house, which he gave me last week before he went out of town, and then I head out to my car. The grief lifts, and my anticipation grows the closer I get. I turn down his street, and when I’m tucked out of sight in his garage, I rush inside.

“David?” I call out when I don’t see him at first.

“In my room.”

The air is filled with the aroma of his shower, and when I walk into his bedroom, my breath catches. He’s unpacking, wearing nothing but a pair of running pants, and his chest, darker than before he left, is bare with drops of water dripping from his still wet hair. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen him without his shirt, but to see him like this, in the privacy of his room, does something unexplainable to me.

He takes his suitcase from the bed and drops it on the floor before grabbing me in his arms. The dampness from his skin seeps through the thin fabric of my shirt, and when he spins me around to lay me on the bed, a tiny squeal sneaks out of me.

“Tell me you missed me,” he says as he braces himself above me.

“I missed you.”

He smiles, and it’s perfect, and the moment I return it, he steals it. His kisses are deep, robbing me of the breath in my lungs. I slip my hands around the knotted muscles in his shoulders and hang on as I lift my head slightly, needing my own sense of control to kiss him back.

His body slides roughly against mine, and when we are forced to come up for air, our lips part. I run my fingers through his over-grown hair and fist it softly in my hands as he stares down at me.

“How was your trip?” I ask after a long moment of quietness.

“Good. Spent most of my time at the beach.”

“Must be nice. I’ve never been.”

“Where? To a beach?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“So where do you vacation?”

He backs off me and stands.

“My family is more into the mountains. We did go to Disney World once, but we never made it to the shore.”

He steps over to his luggage to finish unpacking. “I actually lived down in Key West for several months while I was in combat training. I was deployed to the desert soon after. I love sand, but I’ve gotta have the water too.”

I stand and offer to help him. The smile on his face is a bit wistful, but then his eyes flick back to me, and when they cast down, his lips lose all their mirth. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” I look down to see that a little blood has seeped through my shirt and instantly go numb. He must have opened a scab while he was on top of me. Quickly covering it with my hand, I mutter, “I must’ve brushed up against something or . . .”

My words drift, not knowing what to say as he eyes me suspiciously. He reaches out for my wrist, and I take a step away from him, terrified he’s about to find out my secret.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just, leave it alone.”

“Leave what alone?” he questions in a serious tone.

Taking another step away from him, I hold on to the hem of my shirt with my other hand as my heart races in fear. My whole face heats, and I flinch away when he comes toward me.