Monday, 14 April 2014

From the Mountain

He texted me from the tallest mountain on the smaller island that also forms a part of our country. So typical, such an adventurer he is. His life makes me feel like I've just spent the last 39 years twiddling my thumbs, watching the world go by. But despite his acheivements, and they are many, his shyness and introversion humble and temper his demeanour. It's his introversion that has me hooked, that make me want to clim into him and explore, just as he has explored the far corners of the world. I miss him acutely while he's on this trip with his children. Much more than he misses me, I know, I'm much further along the path than he, having been on my own now for the requisite time. Whereas he lost his love in the hardest way possible, and scarcely a year ago. I'm unafraid of his grief though, of being the one who comes after the loss. My need to express love is greater than my need to be loved. I want to open his heart again, and see that shy crooked smile, always. 

He tries so hard in everything he does, his solitary pursuits, his sole parenting, his work. I think in his way he is trying hard to please me to. I want to be naked with him now. Milky skin, freckles on his broad shoulders, his lovely belly and blue soft eyes. He kisses beautifully, softly, like his personality, which is unobtrusive, steady, but gently encompassing. 

Patience will be needed if I want his love. Not necessarily something that I have in spades. So I've come back to my writing, to help me stand waiting at the bottom of the mountain, loving but undemanding.