Fault, it seems, happened to be something that consolidate during the season of friendship. But due to the distance the conversation had never once turn to this topic. Yet, in my naivety I chose to pursuit further, continue desperately like a canine in heat.
Finally, she can't take it anymore. What kind of friendship it assumes if the discussion has always been about satisfying the hunger for lust? What kind of closeness and respectful intimacy one can look forward to if the 'depth' of the conversation about life is as close to skin - if not on the most sensitive parts of the body?
Silence, she first undertook. And week after week I attempted to ask her how she has been. From those skin deep conversation, suddenly the yearning of deeper relationship emerged. Yet the trust has now been broken. She felt raped by the conversation. She felt subdued and left to nothing. The chastity she once entrusted to because of the friendship has now become a wolf lying in the dark - waiting for the right moment to devour. She suspected all along that though it is mere words, they damaged the purity of the friendship. All he wanted is the body and the selfish satisfaction. It's not the friendship. It is not the closeness and sticking to each other when in need. It is the body. It is the lust. All he ever thought about is lust, that's what she thought.
And today - I looked at the screen, wondering what have changed. And sadly, ravages took over me and I told myself - where is the pride of the man I used to have? Where is the self-control I used to exhibit when it comes to boundary with woman? All seems lost, and yet I live of my facade so well.
What of me. What of... me...
(True words of a misguided soul)
No comments:
Post a Comment