Intimacy?

My Dear Brother,

I was stuffing my aching cavity with clove leaves this morning. It was aching for days now. I was looking in the mirror and my thoughts went back to the day my Wild Child had an operation to have her wisdom tooth remove. I remembered how I wiped tears and blood and spit off of her swollen face. I remember holding her all night while she cried in pain. Not an unusual event these past days. She cried herself to sleep every night, for one reason or another. All her days seemed to be filled with pain. This one just happened to be a physical one. She didn't manage to fall asleep for a long time. The pain just wouldn't go away. I got up and got dressed at 3 am to go out and find her some pain killers. Took me about an hour and a half to find an open pharmacy and get her some Advil. On my way back I stopped at the 7/11 and got her some soy coco drinks. She did love those… When I came back she was still bleeding and crying and she looked like a lost child. I gave her the pills and she swallowed them with the soy drink and she seemed so pleased.

Not only because of the relief, but for me. For having me in her life. Someone who loves her that much that they gave up all the precious moments of sleep, while work was a measly two hours away, just to make sure her slumber goes unconflicted. I think the word is “grateful”. I think she was grateful for having me there. A person who would give her everything. I can’t remember how it is to feel that safe. I never felt that safe with anyone. That intensity of intimacy. I think I might have had that as a child. But I will be honest, I fail to recall such an event…

I think the highest amount of intimacy that is possible to experience would be a visit to the dentist. Where you are pumped with drugs and your mouth gets butchered to no end. You have no idea what you are saying and you will not remember it later on. Your face gets swollen beyond recognition and with all honesty, you just look the worst you ever will. A person that will come to support you when you’re in such a horrid state of fear. I guess it’s wanting someone to be there for you when you want to... No, need to, wallow in self-pity without feeling guilty about it. Feeling allowed to be down. To be weak.

I don’t remember being weak either. I guess the perfection I have tried to build in my character is flawed. I do not know how to allow myself to feel these things. My experience taught me that it is not prudent to do that. Show the people around you that under your skin, you are flesh and blood. That your heart beats and your lungs pump air. And that you are not that special. I started feeling like a balloon. Big and strong, a magnificent balloon. But if you are to puncture my skin, everything inside me will dissolve into molecules and my skin will be blown away. I envy her. She got to know the Fallen when I have missed her every time she was around.

My dearest brother, today I have woken to dreams of the past. It might have been the future… I dreamt of Blue Eyes. She was happy and she was singing. And I was envious. I was envious because I was not. I miss the bliss of ignorance. I miss the wine and the picnics and senseless love in the sun. Where has summer gone to? We used to be such strong winds, you and I…