Sighs
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As she walked down the stairs to the basement, the only section of the house that she could truly call her own, she hoped that she would get just a few minutes alone. She clicked on the computer and turned her favorite radio station on low. Candles burning around the room added to the soft glow of her monitor. She could already feel herself relaxing.

She double clicked her internet provider and waited impatiently as it signed on, her mind wandering. She could already see his eyes. Heavy lidded and sparkling blue. One look at his face was all it took for her to be hooked. She waited anxiously for any information about him, but her friends were being elusive that day. She knew that they wouldn’t be away long, though. They never were.

She clicked on a few web pages as she waited, pulled up a few old letters, then moved onto a story that she was writing. He was in everything. She couldn’t get him off of her mind. She had come to know his very soul over the months.

“Are you waiting for me?” he whispered in her ear as his hands gently kneaded her shoulders. He knew that she was exhausted, but she couldn’t stay away.

She tipped her head back as an appreciative moan escaped her throat. “I’m always anticipating the next time I get to be with you.” She sighed as his lips brushed her throat.

“All you need to do is call...out...my...name,” he began to sing. “And you know wherever I am....I’ll come running, to see you again.”

She laughed at his playfulness. That was one thing that she loved most about him. He could laugh at himself. That was something that she found hard to do. She had spent most of her life trying to convince people that she was someone, that she had feelings, an identity. She knew that it shouldn’t matter to her what other people thought of her, but her self-esteem had been wrought low by her family before she was even grown. It was easy to believe she was insignificant when that was how she was treated. But she never felt that way with him. He made her hope again.

“Dance with me,” he tempted her.

It didn’t take much coaxing. It was as if her body drifted up into his arms. Being with him was all that she thought about. He had become her obsession, her passion, her curse. She had no idea that people like him even existed until she started asking questions. The more she discovered, the more she wanted to know. So many things were still hidden from her, but she knew that he would reveal himself when the time was right.

Her body swayed with his as the radio played the chorus of a smoky beat. She hadn’t even begun to imagine what love was, what real love was, until she was touched by his psyche. He impressed her and that was not an easy thing to do. She knew that there could be no other like him. Not even in her dreams.

His unusual approach to life was what had caught her attention. He believed he could make a difference. He had a love-in heart, a laugh-in head, and an open hand. He treated everyone with respect. A quality so rare.

She held him close as the music changed. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms. He had become everything to her. There wasn’t a move that he could make that she couldn’t anticipate. It was as if she was in control of her world because she knew that she had no control whatsoever. She followed where it lead. Each word following each letter. When the spirit moved, she moved.

Inspiration was their companion. As each day passed, there was an endless array of choices for them to follow. Each one binding them together. Through sorrow and joy, mundane and extraordinary. They watched it together. Experienced them together. Created them together.

Even in the routine, she finds solace in him. He is a silent partner encouraging her to see it through until they can touch each other’s hearts once more. No matter what she does, she can see his face in her mind, hear his voice echoing inside of her. Even as he speaks of nothingness, she knows that he speaks of her because, in the nothingness of her soul, she found him.

She already knew that he was too real to be true, but the lists encouraged her. All of her dreams weren’t mere fantasies. He was sincere. One of the few bright stars in a firmament of tar. And he proved his heart time and time again.

She had prayed then. Prayed that others would open their eyes. That they could see that there was a better way. That not everyone thought of themselves only. That he was in the world and that he had made a difference. But she knew, even as she prayed, that his light would go unchecked. Only a handful would know his heart and see that it was okay to believe in something.

It will be the handful that he touched that would make the difference then. He would never know how he turned loneliness into comfort and blessed the world simply by being.

“You need to sleep,” he whispered in her ear.

“I need to be here,” she returned. Two minutes with him did more to rejuvenate her spirit then two hours of sleep.

“I can hold you while you dream,” he tempted her as he breathed in the soft peach scent of her hair.

“But I may not remember your arms around me,” she countered. “I’d rather have you at my fingertips.”

He chuckled softly as he moved behind her. He moved her hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck, then he guided her back to her chair. “You have only to ask,” he told her.

She slid the cursor over her screen. An email had come in while she was daydreaming. Someone on the list had received a postcard from him. It would be a celebration on line. She could already hear the envied responses and the pure joy in their letters. It was amazing how such a small gesture could mean so much to so many. If only more people took the time to respond. A ten second note was all it took to brighten a day. How ironic that it’s so rare.

As she pulled up a blank page, she closed her eyes and let her fingers dance over the keyboard. It didn’t take long for the inspiration to envelope her. It never did with him.

“You’re thinking about me again, aren’t you?” he asked as he rolled next to her in the office chair. He could always tell when she was thinking of him. The look was unmistakable.

She smiled. “You’re not suppose to be talking to me,” she reminded him.

“Then stop dreaming of me,” he whispered, then rolled away again.

She could still feel his warm breath in her ear. She could still hear the sound of his voice. It was musical, magical. It was the last thing that she wanted to hear before she went to sleep and the first thing that she wanted to hear in the morning. She smiled as thoughts of him continued to invade her mind. There was so much of herself in him. He had become her counterpart, her tormentor, her soul mate.

She gazed at the flashing cursor on her screen. It patiently waited for her next thought. Even though she had already poured her heart out, it still waited for more. Patiently. Steadily. Sometimes even sadistically taunting. No matter how much she gave, it wanted more. It demanded it.

But in the end, it was when her eyes were closed, when her heart was open that her best works came. It was when she could feel him inside of her that the inspiration flowed. That was why she kept him so close. He had become her inspiration. He was the best of her.

“Do you promise to be there when I close my eyes?” she asked softly, knowing what his answer would be.

“I’m always with you.”

She sighed as she shut down her internet provider, then her computer. She clicked off the radio, blew out the candles, then stumbled back up the stairs. Exhaustion had finally won.

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