This is my life: chiarascuro

We’re running around the house lighting candles so we can see. We’re a team. I know where the candles are and which ones will create the most light. He has the lighter. In the dark, we create enough light to see by. At least enough so we’re not bumping into the furniture. It’s enough. We don’t need the television or the internet to entertain ourselves. We have cuffs and rope and our own bodies. The way our bodies fit together is magic. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. It’s beautiful and transcendent like it almost always is. The thundering storm outside stopped at some point. When I come back to this world and my bed, I can’t hear it any more. The lights are still off. I leave him cuffed and tied to the bed and snuggle up between his cuffed arms. Then we think it best to eat the ice cream in the freezer before it’s just cream.

We have a whole weekend together. Somewhat of a rarity. I didn’t know it was going to work out this way, and have already made plans for Saturday evening. A few hours with the Wild Thing and some of his friends. He says it’s fine but behaves opposite. He’s sullen. Withdrawn. Pouting around me but coolly polite to the Wild Thing and his friends. He doesn’t want to be here. He could have stayed home but didn’t. He doesn’t want me to be here. I appreciate spending time with him. Sorta. I would appreciate it more if he weren’t so sullen. The sullenness continues all weekend. The bed is occupied with bodies. Bodies that should fit together like magic. But they aren’t. He doesn’t want to hold me. I don’t want to hold him. We are occupying space but not being together.

It’s difficult when being with one is so simple and freeing and being with the other is so fraught and difficult… but I truly want to be with both of them. I feel myself disconnecting again. And only one of them is allowing me to connect to him and to the rest of the universe through him.

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