Grey memories


She was happy, once upon a time.  Now that’s the only thing she holds on to.  Those almost forgotten moments of happiness crashing in waves on her scratched up life board.

You see, she seems to forget stuff.  Lots of stuff.  The not so particular kind.  Like the name of that man she never really loved, the last anniversary she celebrated.  Was it her fiftieth or her ninetieth…not so sure either.

Time flies, like memories.

Only the good ones stay put, the rest gone with the wind in her mind.

I was wondering today, since when you grow old and you slowly lose the insignificant memories and only seem to be remembering the happy ones, the one that made your heart beat a little bit faster, you skin shiver, your smile wider.

Should you instead, try to live every moment as a happy one?

So that when you start to forget, you actually remember…everything.

Because you were happy all along.

Because you chose to live with you whole heart.

Opening it wide open, because its the only real way to live.

Its easy to write, hard to do.  Even with the best of intentions.  It always wants to run away, hide from reality, so afraid of being hurt, because the last time hurt you more than the others.

I try.  Everyday.  To talk real, to be real, to love…..I gave up.  Ashamed of actually writing this but I really did.  Not just today, but actually a long time ago.  This romantic little girl, gave up on love, maybe that’s why it doesn’t happen in my life.  I don’t know.

I treat men like shit.  Telling myself their will be more.

I know right…you recognize yourself in this.  People do what they know best.  What is safe, what can’t reach you, really reach you, can’t hurt you.

That’s where it goes wrong.  Because remaining closed off hurts more than living wide open.

……..

I was touched today, by a stranger.

His hard…..hands, rubbing me in all the rights places.

I was tensed, enjoying the tight feeling of my body, enjoying his.  Tight is always a good thing…

It was sweaty, raw, sexy, on the verge of dirty.  My soul had long left my body, all remaining was lust and animal instinct.  Our bodies doing the talking, our half-lit cigarettes slowing burning our bedsides manners and the smoke was heavily clouding our senses.

 

I forgot where I was for an instant.

Until he grabbed my throat.  Maybe we went too far.  Maybe not.

I just remember him feeling me tensing up, hardly breathing, from the hurt, from the excitement.

He whispered in my ear, in his voice, the first time I’ve actually heard him speak.

Ever.

It was our agreement.  No talking, no exchange of frivolities, no I love you’s, no Hello, no Goodbye, no How was your day ?

Get in, get out.

Instinct.

3 knocks on the door.  Any time.  Day or night.

-Nadz do you have any idea how long i’ve wanted you?

I’m tensing up some more, from his even tighter grip.  I’m scared.  From Love.

He knows me, even though i’m trying to remain closed.  Spirit has left the building.

I know when i’m older I’ll forget this moment.

Let go, I will never hurt you 

I’m suddenly filed with this rush of emotions.  Love, lust, freedom, happiness, he knows me and I’ve never even spoken a word to him.  The only time I open my mouth is to let his tongue in.

Fawk…i’m screwed….litterally!

…………

AAAAAAhhhhh Love and Lust, what wonderful things to write about.  I could go on for days.  I’m almost tempted to light a cigarette just to feel in tha zone.

Once again, I’ll let you decide what’s fantasy and what’s fiction here.  But the theory of happiness is a real thought of mine.  Because we tend to forget the not so important moments, but the ones we loved though they replay in loops in our minds.  We even can still smell the flowers from that day, or the perfume he was wearing or the music that was playing in the background.

Making happy memories, living with your heart wide open, not being scared of being hurt anymore.  Because you can’t get the gooooood stuff if you are not vulnerable.  You’ll miss the bad yes, but the great as well.

So be free, be wild, be open, and most of all, be happy!

 

Mouah

Nadz

 

 

 

 

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