OVER THE RED LINE ONE: PART 4
But then, on a Monday, she came with a twist of aggression. She emphasized on the need to stay away from her. That I was a threat to her peace, her reputation which had taken her years to build, her marriage. She said that each time I speak with her she ended up imagining those scenarios and had started looking forward to them playing out. Oh! Alas, she deleted my contact again for the second time and barred my numbers except for one platform on social media, whether deliberate or not I didn’t care to know because I wasn’t interested in how or why, I just wanted to be with her and if that was fulfilled, then I was fine.
I felt my soul crushed down again, I only existed but didn’t feel alive. I sent an avalanche of messages, made incessant calls through to her without a single response. In my grief, my heart wept, and the tears flowed not from my eyes, but from every broken piece of my heart. I had told her I was going to be heartbroken at the appointed time, I knew getting over the red line makes this love forbidden and it wasn’t going to last forever, this fairytale wasn’t going to end in “happily ever after”, but I never imagined it was going to be this abrupt and soon!
With pain came words, so I buried myself in poetry as I couldn’t disclose to anyone my ordeal and pain:
“We met where we least expected, defying all the odds as we burn with passion, time seems to be meaningless, everything seems to stand still, but our kisses and passion however far apart didn’t cease, we were like lovers gone insane”
“You deepened my heart with emotions, a depth even I get lost in, words seem not to lighten the burden of what I feel, so tears flow not for pain, but relief”.
“Yes! underrated, frail and innocent, but he touched where no one knew existed, reached the unattainable depth a distance only in my imagination, hitting every target within my core, ravaged me like a beast and ravishing came with a sonorous scream, he was not brutal, I simply made him obsessed and deranged, then cut him loose”
“I said to my mind, to take me on a journey, drawing from the depth of my memory, that which once made the present full of life, the next day hopeful, and the future worth waiting for, that which brought light, also brought cloud of darkness when the love became an enemy to my heart, because the love was forbidden”.
“He knew love could be brutal, but never imagined it would be this swift, expressing all with integrity, the purity and innocence of his soul, delicate and sensitive the beauty of his heart, too intense for her to understand, cursed him with a broken heart, his soul stitched into all the pieces, fear rules over his heart, he lacks words”.
“Pay attention, listen to the heart of the broken, there is something beautiful about it, rhymes, rhythms and melody forming songs, stories and memories, only broken souls understand”.
“Her arousal is a furnace, her desires ferocious, her sexual audacity I crave, my body constantly betrays me, the hunter is now the prey”.
“I am not a free man anymore, a captive of your passion, in shackles of your intensity, what better way can one express solitude, if not been bound in trance after a taste of your desires”.
I rode home with a friend as I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to drive. I heard a beep, I checked, and my phone was ringing. As I picked it up to check the screen for the caller identity, my eyes widened in surprise. It was my Aphrodite, my Nerfititi, the one that had taken captive my soul, heck my life. My hands shook in excitement as I answered, and she requested I read the messages she had sent to me on whatsapp. In split seconds, I was on my whatsapp reading her messages:
“I am a mess you know, totally lost control of my emotions, I can’t be firm on my decision. What have you done to me?”.
From here on, things became more exciting than ever as we moved on like nothing happened. She tells me how she craves and desires me, encouraging my decision to travel to her state so we meet in person. I desire to see her too, but it’s not so simple as I know for certain meeting her would escalate to explosive passionate lovemaking. For I crave the passionate intertwining of our bodies, making the ravaging fire in our hearts bridge fortresses, yes, I would prefer her dressed so my imagination goes wild from suspense, for sex is the ice on the cake and not the cake.
Living each day with these cravings has not been easy. It’s like an individual fighting with himself. I feel like a hungry tiger locked in a cage, hungry for the one that can satiate my hunger. For I long for the day I will be face to face with my Aphrodite, our first words, our bodies invisibly drawing close to each other and how I would go silent after a while and allow my magical touch wake up the passion in her already calling for me. The mental picture gets stronger and I can literally see a flash video of it all.
I will not make haste to ravish her, I will not allow her lure me into eagerness for her touch and neither will I make her unhinged passionate desires seduce me into the swift act of intercourse.
I will take it easy, I will spend time to discuss with her about the purity of my feelings, my sincerity, I will make her understand that I will seek her wherever she goes for if I am opportune to pass through this world again, I will get lost in her beautiful eyes.
And when the cover of darkness comes calling, I will switch off the light and make absolute silence reign, that when she begins to gasp from the euphoria and ecstasy I shall provide, I would feel her breathe and hear her heart race.
The darkness will make me more comfortable not because I wouldn’t want to see her vulnerable state, but for the fact that her body is sacred to me and as such is not a fortified city to be conquered, but a gift to be treated with respect for I am privileged to be in love however, forbidden.
I would trace her curves with my hands and touch every inch of her body, from the hair on her head, to her soft ears, her graceful neck, to the soles of her feet.
I will punish her with my pleasurable kisses and even if tears should flow from her eyes and she pleads that I take her, I would not for the beauty of passion is exploring a woman’s body like one searching for a priceless treasure yet to be found.
As the day I behold my goddess draws near, I feel the cold hands from the sketches of fright faintly touching my heart and my passionate savage instinct stirs. There will be no limit. I won’t let you imagine the rest this time, but will live to tell the tale of The Meeting…