Our Love Is a War

The muted television covered the dark room in a dull lighting, the colors from it flashing brightly ever now and again. I paid no mind to it; That’s not what my eyes are set on. My eyes are set on the lovely creature sleeping in my lap. He hair moved up and down as soft snores escaped his thin, pink lips. I gently placed my hand on his hair, letting my finger burrow in his soft black hair. He stirred, a look of pain crossing his face. I bent my head and kissed his cheek. Oswell smiled and shifted again, to where his face was facing my stomach. I traced the scars along his face. One from a blade, a fingernail and something else. I rubbed his cheek in small circles, feeling where the bone had been broken due to kicking, and punching.

I’ve been sober now for four months; He helped me get through everything. Oswell and I even moved out of our ratty old apartment into a nicer one downtown near his college. He never spoke to me about how I made him felt. Well, of course he hasn’t. He lost his voice because of that cunt Ronnie and his bastard goons. At the thought, I clenched my fists tightly, hate running its course through my system. I tensed when Oswell stirred again, his face looking up at me. A bright, hazel blue orb shinned up at me. I leaned to where my nose was pressed against his light, and moved it sideways in an Eskimo kiss. He giggled lightly, causing me to smile.

“You hungry baby?” I asked him, quietly. The apartment was dead silent, I didn’t want to ruin any atmosphere. He shook his head no and sat up. I still didn’t like the fact that I was super short. Oswell was a good five inches taller than me. He curled up into my side. I stretched my left arm so it coiled on his shoulders around his neck. We watched the muted t.v. in a comfortable silence until Oswell fell asleep again. I turned off the television , making the apartment pitch black except for the glow trying to break past the curtains. I lifted my Oswell to our bedroom, being cautious in the stupid dark. I laid him down, taking his shoes and pants off, leaving him in his shirt and boxers. I took my shirt and pants off so I was only in boxers and a pair of mix-match socks. I curled into bed with him, pulling the covers over us. I wrapped my arms around his stomach and nestled my head on his shoulder, drifting to sleep with Oswell in my arms.

My dreams haunted me with decisions in my past, something I’m trying to forget. The battlefield that I entered, the battlefield that Oswell followed me into was now ruins and dust: Broken pieces mixed with memories in a dull plateau. But through all the ruin sprouted a delicate white daisy - life among the dead. Something beautiful had lived throughout this fight; Something that keeps us going - love. I realized that our love is a war, but in the end, we came out alive.