When I was tripping on acid the last time, it was a dare to myself. Could I do it? Did I have the guts? Would I be able to survive myself? It worked out pretty well I'd say. I faced my demons alone and survived somehow. Life is like that too. You can't expect someone to be there with you forever and for always. Sometimes you've got to figure it all out on your own. It feels strange when I think about all my losses over the last few years. I love and I lose. It could be a person or it could be a pet. I lose them all.
Today marks the second month of Shoshibabu's passing. My heart feels empty, still sore from loss. It's strange to think that Shoshi never met him or rather he never got to meet Shoshi. I bet they would have gotten along like a house on fire.
He used to like cats so much. He'd pick up strays on the road and randomly stroke them. Or would he? I don't remember, my memory is starting to fade.
I don't remember what he looked like, only hazy memories remain. Like photographs, in fragments, in bits and pieces.
But I remember his voice so well and the way he'd say my name. So seductive. So smooth. I remember the whispering. The tension and the compassion.
What else do I remember? I remember watching him as he licked me. His eyes shut and his focus only on me. I remember our reflection in the mirror as we made love in the winter afternoon sun.
Polythene bags and tubes of dendrite
Crying and depression.
Chillums and yet more chillums of ganja.
Kissing.
So much kissing.
And talking.
So much talking.
He wore black nail paint the first time I ever saw him. I was in class 9, he was in 11. He was so cool and I was so naive. I believed him when he told me that he was okay, years later. Why wouldn't I though? The boy never lied, at least never to me.
I knew I had something special with him with that one kiss. We couldn't stop. We stood and kissed under the stars. He'd never kissed someone before, he told me. He never kissed someone like he kissed me, all his life. How could he? Soulmates aren't that easy to find.
He liked other people and I did too, eventually. But we always came back to each other, we found our way back to each other. Fate, too ,played matchmaker for us. We'd bump into each other at the least likely places after months of non-communication. It was in our destiny to end up together. We joked about it all the time and I feel stupid thinking that I did believe, at one point of time, that we'd be together forever in the end.
It's not the sex that I miss. It's the comfort in knowing that I have someone in my life who understands me and lets me, well, be.
I miss his warmth. I miss his smell. I miss standing on my toes to kiss his face. I miss his arms around me and I miss him crushing me to death with his hugs. I miss the ecstasy and the euphoria. I miss the adrenalin rush. I miss the butterflies in my stomach.
It felt so melodramatic the time we were fornicating and 'The End' started to play. We kissed with such urgency, like we knew we didn't have much time. We really didn't. That evening was the last time we ever made love. It was a sign.
He left as beautifully as he came into my life.
Both Shoshi and him.
I'm your average part-time God and full-time joker.
