three reasons

When Yael brought me this book, this leather-bound journal, I didn’t honestly want much to do with it. It took a long talk for him to convince me that it might do me some good to write in it. Not just to write down what happened to me while I was out there in Siberia, but just day to day thoughts. It’s what I did and I still do. It has helped in more ways than I thought was even possible and I wish I could do more than just be thankful for all he’s done for me. He very well could have turned his back on me, packed up what little belongings he has and find another dwelling to settle in.

It’s not because he was homeless that I invited him to come and live with me. I felt there was a connection between us and that was before I had even met him. I’d seen some of his graffiti work and I felt that pull, it was in the energy attached to the work in question that set off that pull that made it so we’re both here today, together. Well, we’re not together in that way and it frightens me that I’ve started to even think about that. I don’t know how well I could handle thoughts of wanting to be together with him in any way other than we are now, as friends. I don’t want him to think that anything I might want for him or with him is based on the fact that we’re both demons.

So I figured I’d set myself out with small things I appreciate about him, things that make me feel fluttery and warm when I think about him. Maybe, if I do manage to set these down, I’ll better understand whatever it is I seem to feel about him. That warmth has been slow-spreading since that night in the living room where he ended up falling asleep against me and I let him. I could have gone back to my room but I didn’t.

So here’s to this list. I figured I’d start with a short one, these are the first three things that come to mind anyway so I guess it’s a good start:

1. He’s like me He’s strong.

Where do I start with this? It’s true, he’s like me but it’s not a valid answer, it’s everything but a valid answer. He’s like me but he’s not afraid of being out there with the humans and the rest, as if there were no fears of being discovered in him. That makes him absolutely strong in my eyes and I don’t know that I could ever be that strong myself. I wish I could be and at this point I know I’m being a coward in wanting to blame my past and how I was raised, how I was kidnapped as a babe and raised with other orphans in a building that was falling apart in a place where I’d never not seen snow.

From what I’ve learned of him at that point, he grew up in an orphanage here in Dunkerque, so we’re similar but we’re different mostly in how our childhood went, I guess it counts. But he’s outgoing and strong and he just smiles every day, even when he’s not feeling it. Not once has he lashed out at me for any reason at all and I’m thankful for that too, I know I’ve made life miserable for us for a long while already, at least now I’ve gotten, and still am getting, better and I think we’re done walking on eggshells because of me.

2. He’s inspired and inspiring.

He’s an artist, what he draws is just absolutely beautiful and I don’t know where he gets it from. I don’t know what kind of demon he is and I’m not about to ask but all he draws, all he paints, what he cuts up from magazines and puts together on these pages, it’s just beautiful. He has talent I hadn’t ever really seen in anyone else before and it’s not because we’re similar that I’m saying that. I have seen plenty of artists as I was on my way away from Siberia and to France and what he does amazes me.

Adding to that, watching him paint or seeing him walk out of his studio with a smudge of charcoal or who knows what else on his face is amusing, I can’t help it. He’s so self assured in what he does that it makes me want to do something not so different, it makes me want to be a better person, to do more of what I can do and better the world in some random, strange ways.

I can only weave, so far only materials of most any kind though if I pay any mind to what happened to me while I was snagged back in Siberia in my recent trip, I might be able to do more than just that, but I don’t want to think too much on it. Yael has offered to draw up fashion, as he calls it, or household items that I could work my way around to better. A pillow, a new curtain that would be absolutely unique. He thinks we’d make a great team.

Maybe.

3. He’s beautiful.

This is one of those things I’m a little afraid of writing down but I need to do it. I find myself noticing it again and again, the strange icy-blue glow of his eyes, a color I’d never really seen on anyone before. They almost make him seem blind though I know so much better. The way he wears his hair, usually up in ponytail without ever complaining that the weight of it is causing him headaches. He tends to color a few strands now and again depending on his mood. Often it’s green though I’ve seen him go with blue or red or even white or purple at times. All the colors look good on him.

I’ve been noticing how the clothes he wears fall on him, how they settle down the slight curve of his shoulder, down his arms, his back to settle along his ass and I have to admit that I’ve thought about reaching out and squeezing it! The thought makes me blush so much at times I think I could explode. His fingers are so fine, artist’s finger and much as I’ve imagined my hand going to squeezing places, I’ve thought of how his fingers might feel just playing with my hair or straightening my clothes before I head out.

All of these thoughts, I honestly don’t know what to make of them, they really frighten me in ways I can’t understand. Though maybe not so much frighten, they just make me a bit uncomfortable. All I really want at this point in my life is to take things one day after the other. I can’t go about rushing things in life, it wouldn’t be right. So really, one day after the other.

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