Friday, October 5, 2012

Yearning to redefine what home can mean

Some days I wonder if life will ever be as easy as it felt when first love still thrived and I was naive to much of the world, but mostly just to his so called charms.  Life was easy back then.  A one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a less than charming apartment complex in a not so perfect part of town seemed somehow more than it was. We made it our own.  We blocked out the noises of the city and the danger on the streets without even trying. Together we built a home, and sadly that is the last time I felt that.  Years later I recognize that he changed while we settled there.  He grew to need more, and I just grew to need him, latching on to the hopes that the feeling of home would travel with us.  Its taken this long but I now see the truth.  My first love started to unravel long before we left that apartment behind. 
I've since lived in many places, even with other boys, but I have not found home again.  Not as clearly as I did there.  I'm left wondering if that feeling is still tangible, if I well ever find that peaceful coexistence again.  Or if I do find it if I will know, or simply run away before it can be built.
He is lying beside me now, oblivious to my struggle and I wonder why.  Not why he does not know, but why i'm so scared to tell him.  That I want all if this.  I want a love with foundations, strings, connections.  I want my to become our.  I want to argue over the remote n play video games in our underwear until 3am.  I want to cook dinners side by side n do all the grocery shopping together.  I want what I left behind in that apartment, but for real this time.  I want to build a life with him, or maybe just discover if we want one together at all.
I want what I promised myself I'd never do again.  I want to jump in head first and drown in the attempt if it does not work again.  Because if we aren't going to do that, really what are we doing?