This is what I get up to every morning and go to dream with. It’s been my partner in bed for the longest I can remember, and each time it envelopes my curled sorry figure and grabs me by the neck, I reach a new high. The highest high of all times.
I was first introduced to it by my own guardians. Wary of who it was and what perception I would form towards it, I was told it is wicked, and as with all things wicked, I was expected to evade it. To make it lose the chase, not once, but always.
But this chase never ceases. It hides and lurks around to entangle you in the mesh of your own being. It lives long and sooner or later, you have to embrace it.
Each time I try to escape I am pulled back, gasping for breath, into its dark abyss, to which my eyes have now gotten acquainted. My throat letting out that inaudible screech which tears through my very self and finally mutes it.
Oh how it feels to be drawn like this, to be pulled for want, if only it was a lover. Been so long and still not satiated, it continues to want more of me. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s vice versa, I wouldn’t know. Its strength is overpowering and weakens me each time to succumb to it, to derive pleasure out of this pain.
My first destined encounter with it was as a child. It was no chance. It had conspired it for long. Ever since it’s been weighing on me, resting comfortably, never letting me go. Though there have been times when I have outsmarted it, but then it lurks around, take it for no fool. It waits and follows you in your shadow because the joy of victory is sweeter for it, when not expected.
It’s stressed, when I realize it chose me over others and still continues to. What follows is a struggle to release myself, to break the shackles and fly away like that bird, in the clear blue skies, who doesn’t know it has the vicious hunter’s nozzle aimed at it. But I do manage to find that release, to escape from the dark alleys of my mind, hiding from it, towards the only source of light.
But then again I feel it crawling on my feet, ascending over the length of my being, slowly yet powerfully. Moving its fingers tenderly all over me, my body, my mind and my soul.
Its touch is familiar, why wouldn’t it be, after all, it’s been my longest companion. I seem to lose myself to it, as always, as if under a spell, enjoying the warmth as it grows on me. I can feel it palpitating against my skin, my voice reduced to a murmur, pleading my way out.
But does it listen? Oh it does, lets me reach the summit, to be blinded by that light, as I am dragged back into its pit, yet once again.