[michaelsmelody]

Sorry, jeg var bare nødt til lige at få det ud..

He let his hand caress my cheek, as his sad eyes pierced into mine. “Don’t cry, please…” he begged, and the sweet smell of his perfume reached my nostrils, and made my head cloudy. His hand was big, and my head could almost disappear in just that one, but it was gentle and caring, softer than any skin I had ever felt.
At the sound of his voice I had to swallow to stop the tears that were fighting to be released through my eyes. I blinked fast, and fought to let my gaze avoid his, but I couldn’t. The brown was almost black in this light, and it felt infinite. It was not to be escaped, and I knew it.
I had dreamt of this moment for 14 years - the moment where I would have him close, all by myself. But never in my life had I thought that it would be under these circumstances, and it made it heartbreaking. I knew he didn’t do it on purpose, that he hadn’t planned this, even though the rumors were already going; that he had staged this moment, planned it down to every single detail. But even though I’ve never met him, up until now, I knew him better than that. He would never put us, anyone, through this pain. This pain he knew that was inflicted by this situation.
I looked him back in the eyes, because I knew that fighting against it would be a lost battle. “How could I not cry? How?” I asked him, trying not the lump of my stomach burst out through my mouth along with my words.
Silence. He didn’t say a word. Just looked back at me, his hand still on my cheek. He shook his head, and took half a step closer to me. I could feel the warmth of his body heating up mine. How ironic that his body would be so hot right now. I couldn’t help noticing that his movements were so graceful that they didn’t even make a sound. My own movements were always loud and clumsy, and if there was anything around to break, I would break it in a second. I had given up on being graceful ages ago. But I was so fascinated by this fact. Even though the fabric of his shirt was heavy and stiff, from the newly ironing, he was as soundless as big cat on soft paws.
“It’s not the end of the world. It won’t be as bad as you think,” he tried, even though it was very clear to me, that he didn’t really expect me to believe his statement. I didn’t know what to say, so I just shook my head. I felt like screaming. Screaming, on the top of my lungs. Screaming, till my voice would disappear into dark space above our heads. But I wouldn’t give him that, it would be improper to scream in front of him, just like that.
“I just wanna scream!” I burst out, instead of just doing it. He had been examining my fingers with his left hand, but now he raised his he just a tiny bit - just enough for him to catch my eyes underneath his dark curls that were laying over his forehead, down his cheekbone. “It won’t help, sweetheart, you know that. This is destiny, there’s nothing we can do about it…” he said in an apologizing voice. And I knew he was right, but I also knew, that he knew what I meant, and that he knew why, and how I felt. Why would he always be so rational?
I tightened my grip around the fingers on his left hand. I looked down at them, as I let my eyes go down through his HIStory - the HIStory of his hands. I remembered the time that these hands were as dark as chocolate, and innocent as a newborn kitten. I remembered the time that these hands had been growing, and even though it was obvious which distance they would reach, they was still as filled with innocence as anything. I remembered the teenage-years, the early twenties, of these hands. The time where these hands had been some of the most successful in the world. The time where they had begun to reach a more lighter tone, where people wrinkled their noses. I remembered the many times that I had been observing these hands as the most hypnotizing thing that I had ever seen. I thought about all the beauty and wonder that had come out of these hands just by him putting a pen to a piece of paper. I remembered the many times that I had been longing for those hands to hold mine, to caress mine, to hold me tight and make me feel safe. And now that moment was here, but yet I felt anything but safe.
Instead I couldn’t help being afraid, lonely, and feeling a little betrayed - not by him, but by people I didn’t know who were, by the world, among others.
“I’m scared.” I got myself up to tell him, and I was eager to let him know that I was being more honest than I had ever been in my entire life.
I was confused, and I had no idea how to tell him the exact amount of pain that was building up inside of me. I knew it wasn’t necessary, I knew that he could feel it. The moment his skin touched mine for the very first time, it was like he got to be an extension of me. Like he could feel my every single emotion, like he could feel the beating of my heart slowing down, the closer the second got to us. It was like his soul was inside of me. I didn’t even have to use words, cause he already knew what I was about to say. But still, I couldn’t help thinking that I had to let him know it by words, even though I knew it was impossible.
“I can’t be without you. I just can’t! You are the essence of what I am - of who I am.” I told him, in a tone that I regretted immediately for being so hard. I could see that he felt exactly what I meant, and that it wasn’t my intention to be so hard on him.
“I am sorry,” he said. “But I won’t be away forever, not for real at least. I will stay with you. You know that, right?” The sadness in his eyes grew with his words, and along with that it grew in my heart, in my bones.
I didn’t want him to apologize, but the words felt good, because I knew that it meant that he felt the same way.
The moment got closer and closer, and I wanted to drag him close to me, to wrap my arms around him, and never let him get away. But deep inside my logic side told me that it would only hurt me more.
“Don’t hate me,” he pleaded, with a lightning of pain behind the glass wall that covered his eyes. I could feel what he was talking about. I could feel it too, the dragging.
“It’s time…” he told me, his soul clearly burning through his shell of a body.
“I can’t do anything about it, I have to listen to them…” his voice thick with the emotions that were piling up inside of him.
He lay his hands on my cheeks, and I could see his almost translucent skin from the corner of my eye. “Life isn’t fair. I just hope it will work out for you. I won’t forget you, remember that… Please?” he asked me. I had to stop myself from bursting out in laughter. “How could I ever forget you?!” it wasn’t a question, more of a statement. This would never happen - we both knew it, so I didn’t know why he had to ask.
He sunk his head, and then looked back at me under his long eyelashes. He bit his lower lip, and blushed a bit. That was the African American man I knew and loved.
He fastened his grab around my face, and lowered my head, as he placed his soft lips on my forehead. “Take care of yourself - I will be watching you.” He said, as he let his thumb back and forth over my cheek, and I tried to let the feeling last forever. I sniffed to let the memory of his smell stay with me forever, let the feeling of his touch never go away, I tried so desperate to hold on to it. But then it came… and I should have been prepared, but it still hit me - as a slap in the face.
I felt the warmth of his hands getting colder, and I knew what that meant. “It’s now, it’s happening now. I’m sorry, I won’t leave you for good. I promise,” he promised in an aching tone that ripped my heart in two, hoping he would take a part of it with him.
The tears welled out in my eyes, even though I had promised him not to. It was a lost battle.
His skin was ice cold as it left mine, and his hands had gotten hard, as he disappeared in the light. Like an illusion that had been only in my mind.
June 25th will never be the same again, I thought, as I broke down.

[HeavenCanWait]

Åårh mand Annika - du ved lige hvor du skal trykke

[Jacqueline]

Jeg vil rigtig gerne læse den, men jeg er bare ikke klar på det lige for tiden

[Mike's Moonwalker]

Det er så smukt skrevet, Annika! (hvorfor er der ikke et hjerte ikon!)

Jeg kunne se ham for mig og mærke, hvad du skrev. Fik mig til at tude :'-(

Meget flot. Tak for det <3


Love,
Nelli