Reawakened

The universe tells me you are the one, but a part of me fights against this.

There is a whisper from my Gemini moon that the analysis of my feelings is needed.

Gemini constantly reminds me emotional intelligence is critical.

And then there is the stern parental voice of my Virgo rising that says to be sensible.

Do not run away into this land where your illusions get the best of you.

La La La La La.

Every morning and every night, my Venus Pisces, who inspires me to open myself to the possibilities of this connection, covers my ears and refuses to let me listen.

Even during the day, it is getting harder not to be distracted by you.

There are certain times during the day, especially in the morning around 8 or 9 am, that I feel you.

It is always while I am doing my morning reports.

I sense a hunger that makes me want to close my eyes and lose myself.

This comes on suddenly as if, in that moment, you are out there focused on looking at me.

I imagine you alone.

I imagine your look, ravenous, raking over every inch of me.

I know you are looking at me.

I swear the intensity you send me tells me there can be no other answer.

You have to be.

Those moments make me wish to be home.

Restlessness makes me want to run, to find release from this pressure that builds within me because of you.

Who am I fooling?

I ran this morning, and my body was still gripped by this compulsive desire that I knew only you could satisfy.

All the numbers on my reports make me angry.

I hate numbers. I hate Excel. What am I doing here?

Formulas were never for me. They are so black and white.

I want the passion of red.

I want words.

Yours.

How are your words filled with reason and devoid of feeling, but I am drawn to them?

It is what is below the surface of what you write.

You tease me with the complexity of your mind.

What you don’t say when you write piques my imagination.

And in truth, I have wondered about the debates that we would have because there are some things you write that I question regarding ethics.

This is not because I doubt your intentions but because I question your faith in humanity to use all you write about for good.

Maybe the universe knows that in truth, as much as I am drawn to the feeling world, I need the yin to my yang who can steer me back into the practicality of reason and perhaps help me to see a bigger picture of humanity that, as of now, I have lost a tremendous amount of faith in.

And maybe the universe knows that you need me to remind you to be vulnerable to the colors of emotion; I can’t believe this all-consuming energy that I feel between us is meant for nothing but logic.

Perhaps I am here to help you be open to assisting the universe with your intelligence in other ways that cannot be used in the wrong hands.

Will we find what we are lacking in each other?

Are we the other half of the whole? That is what I want to believe.

Unbelievably and as ironic as it sounds. I don’t know you but I feel that everything between you and I is more real then more then half of the conversations that I have everyday.

In the morning, when I wake up, before even leaving my bed, I find myself searching through the names of people I don’t know who cross my phone.

I look for your name. If it isn’t there, I type your name into the search bar to see your face…your eyes.

I wake up needing to see you.

In my mundane world somehow weather this is all a fantasy or not I don’t care.

You have reawakened a part of me that I have worked so hard to forget.

There

Among all the pointless surface interactions that I have no choice but to have each day, my soul desires the depth of what I have with you.

What would it be like to wake up to you?

After I see your picture, I find myself thinking of your voice.

Since I first heard you in one of your videos, its sound has haunted me.

I imagine you saying my name, breathing me in as you say it against my skin.

Here in this silence, how would I feel having your fingers close to the pulse of my neck?

What would it be like to wake up to the pressure of your need and the urgency in your hands as you pull me to face you?

Your eyes search mine, meeting my hunger to have this deepening of our desires brought to a culmination.

My hand clenches my pillow, overcome with the ache these thoughts provoke.

Most nights, I am spent.

I drive myself all day to forget these needs.

Most days, I push my body and mind until all I feel is empty.

Regardless…

Every night, I look at your picture one last time before closing my eyes for sleep.

When I look into your eyes, what I see tells me that there is also a need for me in the depths of them.

Is this real or imagined?

It matters not. I find comfort in letting myself believe that.

Still, I long to have your body next to me to convince me.

When I look at your face, my hand aches to know what it would feel like to have your jawline's roughness against my fingertips.

If you were here with me, would I find your eyes as tired as mine?

With the darkness of the day, my resolve against you weakens.

I am unguarded. All of my defenses are gone.

There is no energy left to fight you or me.