Their Loss

A little note before this post: I found this while I was going through some old papers of mine. I don't really remember what inspired it, but I felt like it was a good look into the difficulties that can follow those who have suffered trauma. I hope, as always, that it makes you think :)

What if I scared him off?

What if my past, just that small brush of it, was enough to dismiss me from his eyes?

Is being broken really so bad?

Is catching a breath, back to the wall, eyes huge, so utterly disgusting that even we who see it every day will curl our lips in revulsion to see it in those we may yet love?

I do not think so.

I know I need time. I know I'll need patience and understanding.

But give me these small gifts, and I will become sensual.

My eyes, so wide with fear, can glitter green with desire.

My back, once bowed, will curve in delight and arousal.

My breath, released, can slide, smooth and warm, over your skin and send shivers down your spine.

It will not be easy.

I know we live in a world of instant gratification. I know we as humans and as mortals (for there is a difference) have forgotten how to fight, and how to wait.

Trust me, I know.

I have seen interest fade before, a mannerly mask not quite hiding irritated eyes.

“Why didn't you warn me?” those eyes demand.

“I tried,” mine murmur back. “But you were blind.”

So, for you, I warn. For you, while a kitten wraps its purring self about my heart, I offer a glimpse. Before anything serious. Before you find out for yourself, I warn.

And I may have lost you anyway.

But you know what?

I think that your loss is, somehow,

much,

much,

greater
than mine will ever be.