chance

I’m pretty sure I’ll look back on this day and tell myself how much of a fool I’ve been. I don’t even understand what’s driving me to do this. Maybe it’s the weather, the flowers that are sprouting out and about, left and right and dead center, maybe it’s the pollen from these flowers getting into my brain and telling me to do foolish things. I don’t know.
All I know is that my brain is telling me that I have to chance it, I have to give it a shot, a try, else who knows really, when I might next be so brave as to do this?

The dress was something else altogether. It took no courage to put it on, I wasn’t even thinking at that point. All I saw was that it was doing him good and it was the only really important thing then. I wanted him to be happy, I wanted to see him smile in ways I hadn’t yet. Or at least, I hadn’t seen recently.

The past months, since his return from Siberia (a detail I’ve learned but recently), have been difficult for both of us. For him because of what happened, of the nightmares I know he gets because he’d wake up screaming, of his fear of them popping back up and taking him away again though he hides it well.. for me it was a little different but I was afraid of doing anything that would frighten him, that would make him uncomfortable, anything that would do anything but please him so I did all I could think to do, I avoided being in the house best as I could.

Still, these things have been worked out, are still slowly being worked out but it is much better now than it was just a couple of months back. Time seems to fly lately and I know that in my dreams I reach out and try to grasp at it all to try and get that time back. I feel like it’s all flying away from us, like we’re running out of time. When I wake up I have to remind myself that we’re both demons, that we have more times than the mortals I’ve spent the rest of my time around. We’re not eternal but we’re not going to die any time soon, at least not of natural causes.

Over the past week I’ve half-settled back into the routine I had before I moved in with him. I don’t mind getting up with the sun setting and going to bed in the morning, it was actually easy to fall into that routine but lately I’ve been wanting to see a bit of the daylight I had been missing out on so I’ve been mostly up and about in the early afternoon, awake and leaving him a note as to my general whereabouts so he won’t worry and I wander.

I feel like I’ve changed in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. When he found me, I was mostly interested in graffiti art, in painting over old walls with tags and pointless things. I never really had had any direction. Now, well now I walk around our little, so very quiet neighbourhood (thank god!) and I find myself wanting to paint this one scenery or that one. I find myself wanting to take out my pens and draw the sunrise, or just that one view from our window with the colours blossoming all about. I imagine what autumn will be like with beautiful leaves and everything else and the desire to ‘art it out’ swells in me.

This time spent outside away from him however has rather cleared my mind that I am developing a fondness for him that I know shouldn’t be there and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about it. I really can’t imagine that he would want that kind of relationship, his first few steps in my directions were because of what I am and what he is in that we’re both demons, it’s what attracted him to me in that sense and while I’m aware that he’s moved beyond that to seeing me as a friend, I can’t imagine it could go any further.

We’re so different from one another, though I know that some claim that opposite attract, I don’t know if that would work out for us. All I can do at this point is watch from a distance but that may not fix the issue for long. I’ve noticed sketches in my sketchbooks, the ones I keep in my room instead of in my studio. I must do those when I’m more tired than I had thought, they’re mostly him, those sketches. At times I’ll take a pencil and scribble and not really pay attention, at first it’s just loose shapes but eventually they turn into more and I just.. I can’t help myself.

This is a dilemma that I don’t know how to resolve. Then again I’m not sure if it’s much of a dilemma. Worst case scenario, if I decide I’m brave enough to tell him I’m growing to like him, is that he stares at me like I’ve grown a second head and decides to throw me out. I can deal with that. I’ve lived in the street for most of my life. It would be a loss of comfort but that comes with being honest. I don’t really want to hide anything from him, at least not that kind of thing.

Maybe if I can’t bring myself to tell him in words I could try to tell him with art, or maybe I could just up and kiss him though that might earn me a black eye or something. I had seen him around before, wandering the streets about his old home before he sought me out. He has a short temper when idiots are concerned and where his own safety isn’t really in question. While I’ve yet to see him turn to violence, he can get quite loud and yelling at stupid idiots lets him blow some steam out.

I don’t much care for the idea of being yelled at, or smacked or even thrown out, but if that is the cost of being honest with him, I guess I will have to chance it. Though maybe I should give it more time, make sure that what I am feeling is indeed more than just whatever it is I think. I’m aware it isn’t lust, I’ve never really felt that. I’ve been affectionate towards others before but never in a sexual way and I don’t know that I would start that kind of thing with him. Affection is one thing and I’d be good to survive on that forever if I could. Well that and food and rest but still.

I’ll give it a bit more time, I’m sure it’s all this pollen driving me crazy in the head and in the heart.

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