I have this idea about the rain.
And that’s us . . . sitting in the car in an empty parking lot and, of course, the moment is otherwise intense. So much goes on in our lives. So much happens at once and if we’re not careful, it’s easy to overlook the reasons why we’re here.
Come to think of it, why are we here?
Why are we sitting in the car in the rain past midnight after a long conversation about broken hearts and feelings?
Why do we go down this road? I ask this because there are so many other beautiful and amazing things we have together.
I like these things. Or better yet – no.
I love them the same as I love you.
Why are we here when there are so many other places that we could be?
Either way, we’re here now. Arent’we?
We’re at where we’re at . . . .
The street lamp above allows for the raindrops to glisten as they fall past the orb of light with a halo around the white that shines down. The rain is heavy enough to sound the alarm of a trillion chattering raindrops, all of them falling like dying soldiers who land upon the ground and splatter in place. The rain is heavy and loud on the roof of the car.
I can see you in this light and though intense, your beauty is unlike anything I have ever seen before. You are beautiful, which you know I’ve said this to you before but now, in this light and with emotion in your eyes; more than anything, you are absolutely mesmerizing.
It’s like the light from the street lamp is shining down on us for a reason. Maybe this is a message from the Love Gods, telling us to shut the fuck up and kiss already.
But otherwise, the rest of the world is dark and aside from us, there’s absolutely no one else in attendance for the show we are about to create.
I am looking at you now, beautiful as ever, and tearful, which is beautiful as well – endearing, perhaps, or perhaps this shows your truth in a different light, which also arouses me for some reason. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a sense of your truth or your purity. Maybe this is you showing me the real and truthful version of yourself which, undoubtedly, you are even more beautiful as the seconds tick onward.
All I keep thinking to myself is why are we fighting?
Why would I even dare to argue with the love of my life?
What’s the matter with me?
Why are we even wasting our breath by arguing when there are other ideas I have – especially now, when you look so sweet and so pure and openly vulnerable.
“I don’t want to do this,” you say.
“I don’t want to do this either.” I say back yet, we always find ourselves here, for some reason banging our heads together when the fact of the matter is the only thing I want to do is have my lips touch yours.
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you too,” I answer.
“I love you more than you will ever know,” you tell me.
“You have no idea how much I love you,” I say.
You look at me, again with those sweet eyes, amazing, I say.
You answer me by saying, “Everything you feel is what I feel too.”
I think to myself, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Go to her,” I tell myself.
It’s amazing how our minds allow us to wander away from the truest depths of our hearts which, of course, we want to stop. We want the dream. We want the arguing to end and more than anything, we want the dream to begin, and of course, you know what I want here.
I want to touch you.
I want to hold you.
I want to make love to you as hard and as strong as I can because above all, this is all that I want.
“I can’t take this,” you say.
I answer, “Me neither.”
“But at the same time, I can’t resist you.” I explain.
You tell me, “I can’t stop this or walk away.”
“And I don’t want to walk away.” I tell you. “Not ever,” I say.
I tell you, “I see you wherever I go.”
You explain, “No matter where I am or where I go, there is always something around me that leads me back to you.”
I get that . . .
I think about this to myself. I swear, sometimes debates or arguments or heated or sad discussions take on a weight and shape of their own. But why?
I only ask because when the momentum picks up, it seems like there’s just no stopping us.
But meanwhile, all I see is your face.
I know this is something that nobody wants.
The only thing I want is you . . .
All I want to do is stop the wheels from spinning. I want to hush you by throwing my arms around you. I want to stop my mouth from speaking by pressing my lips against yours because the truth is, I never want to fight with you.
I could kiss you for longer than eternity lasts and still, there wouldn’t be enough time.
The truth is, I want to make love to you.
Right here and right now.
I want to kiss you and lose myself in the softness of your curves. I want to feel the thrill that comes over me when your tongue is in my mouth.
Quite honestly, nothing in the world could ever bring me to these heights.
Only you can do this to me.
“I know you’re scared,” I tell you
“I’m scared too.”
“But I’m more scared to live without you,” I say.
“Because I don’t want to live without you.”
Not ever
And next, it’s on. Finally the guns are silenced.
I move in. I move in quickly too. I wrap arms around you and place my kiss upon your mouth. I do this so you can feel me. I do this so you know that the real me is right here.
This is who you’ve come for. Not the other parts.
You can feel how much I love you.
You can definitely see how much I want you.
“No one in the world can make me feel like you do,” I tell you.
And just that quickly, you return to me.
“I have always loved you,” you say.
“I have always wanted you,” you tell me.
I do believe that above all things and that aside from chemistry, there is an art to making love, which means that we could be anywhere in the world yet, no matter what’s around us or where we are, everything is absolutely magical.
And you?
You are the most magical thing in the world.
I can’t control myself now.
I need you. I want you.
I know that you feel the same way because you are removing your pants down to the floor and slipping your panties from the tippy-toe of your right foot.
Then you’re kicking it off your legs to free your body from what’s about to take place.
The rain outside is heavier than before and teams of raindrops are diving down like mad Kamikaze pilots, spiraling to an end of all ends, and as the rain rages on – so do we . . .
You say, “You smell so good.”
“Why do you always smell so good?”
Your eyes close as you feel me moving in closer and stronger. At the moment, the idea of denying what’s about to happen and what’s about to take place is useless.
I keep thinking to myself – “Look at her!”
“Why do you argue?”
“What the hell are you thinking?”
“Stop this shit now!”
I think this because as I touch you, and as I feel your body and I notice the expression on your face or how you respond, I realize this connection is undeniable.
So what the hell am I so insecure for?
There is nothing like this in the world. There is no match anywhere else.
No one can do this like you can – to me.
I think to myself, “What the hell am I fighting with her for?”
There’s no time for this.
There’s only time for what’s about to happen and what’s about to take place.
You tell me, “Do you see what you do to me?”
And you mean this because you quiver and shake.
Your body responds in such a way that like me, no one else can make you feel like I do.
And we know this.
We both do.
We know all about the connection. We know this both fully and perfectly because as we collide in the back seat, I slide into you.
I move in as deep as I can go – and it’s that first rush; it’s that first plunge of ecstasy; it’s that first dive into your body when I know how amazing you feel because I can feel your body as it wraps around me.
Silky. Smooth
Amazing . . .
I can feel the walls of your love as they enclose around me. And yes, no one else in the world could do this. No one else could match this and fuck it all; and dare I say it – then let me say it, no two lovers elsewhere could duplicate this either.
Only you. Only me.
Only us.
We move in a special rhythm that is honored by both chemistry and magically; in which case, here we are in the backseat, lost beneath the rain, which is angry and heated enough to match the in-and-out plunges of our passion together.
I am growing as a man – stiff and strong, thickening inside of you.
I know what to do . . . .
My tongue darts into your mouth.
My hands caress your body and more specifically, I bring my right hand down lower, between you – this is your spot of all spots. I start rubbing above your entryway, as if this were a button of sorts, remarkable as ever but also, orgasmic as ever too – and this is the way. This is how things need to be between us.
“I don’t ever want to fight with her again,” I think to myself.
I look at you. I look into your eyes which show both weakness and love, as well as the passion in your heart and the upcoming approach of a grand, yet bodily explosion, which is both physically euphoric and systemically eruptive.
I can’t stop now.
I can’t forget this. I can’t forget all of the reasons why I’m here, with you or inside of you.
Your legs are spread wide with your toes pointed towards the sky.
And me, I continue my efforts to run in and out of you, to make love to you, for always, and although my heart is here and pure and loving; and although my strides pump into your body with all the love in my heart, with all the desire that I feel which is unmatchable and unequaled by any other love or passion in the world – still, the strength of my dagger and the lust I feel towards you takes over. And yes, I want to fuck you.
I want to make love to you.
I want to taste you. I want to drink you and more than anything, I want to make you arrive at that beautiful and physical explosion which pulsates through your body.
I want to bring you here more times than the clock ticks around the world.
More than anything else – I want this with you.
As in all day, every day.
Naked as ever. Come rain or come shine.
“You’re so deep,” you tell me.
“You’re so hard,” you say.
And I am . . .
For you.
In the world of sanity, I know that I am insane.
I’m crazy. Sure I am.
I know where my faults are and I know that nothing in this world is worth losing this connection.
Nothing in the world is like this.
No one else can provide a love like this.
I know it. You know it too.
And as I stride into you, moving in beats like a running horse as it gallops through water at the shoreline, you feel my body. You feel my muscles, which are strong and flexed.
You feel me reach into you, deep as ever, and in a perfect moment, as your body swirls around my extension, which is driven into you and out, you can feel me swell in such a way that tells you – yes, I’m about to cum . . .
This is when I let my fountain go. This is when every muscle tenses and then suddenly, everything in my body releases. Hot as ever and somehow, fate takes hold and just as the two of us connect, and just as we both shout out with mutual explosions, followed by the panting of heavy breaths, the rain slows down, as if the sky felt it too –
God, I love you so much.
I look at you.
I realize what needs to change.
Me.
You.
We are perfect together; however, there is work that needs to take place.
But more, there is a connection that needs to be honored and cared for.
Otherwise – we suffer the consequences.
I don’t want to talk anymore.
I don’t want to rehash anything or relive my insecurities or my fears.
I certainly don’t want to argue
(but making up like this sure as hell ain’t too bad either!).
However –
I am inside you now, feeling the heat between us which is wet and sweaty and, of course, this is as sexy as can be.
This is who we are –
two crazy kids that can’t keep our hands off of each other.
This is who we are –
two kids in the world of grownups who don’t get it or don’t get us.
This is who we are –
Two people in love, scared of all the contemplations, but more . . .
This is who we are –
We are two people who fate has chosen to match together.
I suppose the reason for all of this is a revelation of mine; in which case, I realize that life is not to be taken so seriously.
It’s time to get back to this.
More fun. Less talk.
More love. Less drama.
More enjoyment. Less worry that the enjoyment will stop or that somehow the gods have only played a trick on us and that somehow, you’ll go away or hurt me or worse – you’ll leave me all alone or that I’ll do the same to you.
But not now.
Not on my watch , , ,
It’s time to let go of fear and all the bullshit worries about the nonsense in my head.
It’s time to get back to the very basics and the truly loving animalistic pleasure, or even the simple ideas of sharing some fruit and walking along 46th Street or downtown, or on Broadway, or Liberty perhaps. Or, especially near Nassau Street, as in 123 Nassau where the publishing house used to be, which is now the Beekman, which has meaning to me beyond belief.
And so do you by the way.
It’s time to put the bullshit aside and walk around the world as if we own the damned place.
Nothing else matters anyway –
This is love.
And the rain, she knew what we needed.
And so do I.
So do you.
In the world of great collisions and accidents, I know this is nothing of the sort.
This is intention
and I don’t need to talk about it anymore.
I only need to enjoy it
Both in and out of the rain.
In a car or in a room
Here, or there, or in a closet, snuck away from everyone else in the world because we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other.
This is us and how we need to be
This is my love –
I need to remember that
For always
The Written Addiction 