guiltless someone

R came one moonless night. accentuated with the profoundness of silence and the mystic of the rarest words. after a rich exchange of electronic pulses, we decided to meet the shadows of our past once again.

"what are you having?" i asked.

"a can of beer please," same thing i have in mind, "just to beat the nervousness, i guess."

we both smiled.

i grabbed four cans of strong ice, different from what I usually have, some bags of chips and something for dinner. an excuse to satisfy a different appetite.

when we reached my place, i put a couple of discs in the player just to neutralize the awkwardness. but we never really had the chance to finish either one of them. apparently, it was our similarities that led us and found the ease within our peculiarities. I thought, if this is being filmed, the song comfort in your strangeness would be the best fit for the scene.

I know from R’s voice that what were going to do/be is wrong. on the otherhand, I could also see in R’s eyes that we have the same definitions of near abstract concepts, that make us different from others, that makes us the bad crops in the basket. but I think being deviant also has its perks.

when the cans crumpled dry, the bed then invited us over. we gently laid down beside each others’ bodies, like fragile ice blocks about to break, cold but sweating. suddenly, i heard the sneaking shadows of our past as it landed on my window pane and silently slipped inside my room. then in an instant, it grabbed our arms and held our bodies as they led us dancing and sweeping our hesitations away. we heard drumbeats, that seemed like no one could hear; deep breathes that sounds like a thousand dying candles, and endless humming of night beasts, as if they too are celebrating.

but no, no one really called for a celebration. for we both knew we just crossed the word fidelity, or did we?

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and when the bed broke its leg and the sheets fell down, words began to come back like fireflies in a bleeding friday sunset. we looked for shattered pieces on the floor. but too scared to see our own faces. but we guessed, theres no longer room for cowardness. so we slowly crawled at the edge of the exhausted cradle and surprised to see that there was nothing down there. there was no guilt, no shame and it felt like were just seeing each other for the first time again. the feeling of oddity came from the absence of it, as if it transgressed and vanished right into thin air.

I never really understood it, or perhaps it was never intended to be.

but i realized, in a reality full of reasons and rules, were people care so much with order and traditions, believing what is right and good is already as hard as finding the truth.

the next morning, as R slowly walked away from my room, I thought, perhaps there is really no truth, that all of us are destined to find our own versions of it and it just so happened that I just had mine but i chose to let it go for the promise of finding, not the best, but at least a better or more suitable one.