Status: Initiated - Phase 2
Unconscious Connection!
Late Nights:
What had started, in all earnest innocence, had turned into a habit. Never knew I could have broken off, why? I had enjoyed the brief moment of sacred union. What could possibly be wrong? Nothing really happened, or, did it?
All we did, was putting our hands together. Nothing more happened. No holding hands, no kiss, no nothing. Simple as that. Even though, I looked into her eyes, as she looked into mine.
It's nothing we spoke of, not because we feared it was wrong in any way. It's simply too private, and too intimate. Had we known, or realised, we were not alone? That others did, exactly what we did? When were they doing it? Where and why?
When I say 'Private', I mean it. It's something between the two of us.
Who initiated it, I'm not sure, maybe, because it was so late, just before we were going to sleep? Or, was it, because it never had mattered, it isn't important? Yet, it had kept going, night after night.
How it could have such power over me, I have no idea. Maybe I never did care. What is important, is the profound influence and effect it had had on me, this far.
What was about to transpire, I had no idea, did she? Maybe she did not care, either. What happened, what is about to happen, still do happen, none the less.
What I had felt, I still can't quite put as much as a finger on. It's as if the feeling, the sensations were too slippery. Just as if I were trying to climb up a cliff, in pouring rain.
There never had been a single word spoken, in bed, or at the bed side. It's as if it had net been needed, but rather, it would have gotten in the way. That's my first impression, it still stick to me, as it is going to, even if I did not know it now.
What I had failed to notice, or realise, is the fact that the hand I place on hers, is the hand that is on her side of the bed. If it is a coincident, who is to say? If I had known whom of us initiated the habit, maybe there was a clue?
All we did, was putting our hands together. Nothing more happened. No holding hands, no kiss, no nothing. Simple as that. Even though, I looked into her eyes, as she looked into mine.
It's nothing we spoke of, not because we feared it was wrong in any way. It's simply too private, and too intimate. Had we known, or realised, we were not alone? That others did, exactly what we did? When were they doing it? Where and why?
When I say 'Private', I mean it. It's something between the two of us.
Who initiated it, I'm not sure, maybe, because it was so late, just before we were going to sleep? Or, was it, because it never had mattered, it isn't important? Yet, it had kept going, night after night.
How it could have such power over me, I have no idea. Maybe I never did care. What is important, is the profound influence and effect it had had on me, this far.
What was about to transpire, I had no idea, did she? Maybe she did not care, either. What happened, what is about to happen, still do happen, none the less.
What I had felt, I still can't quite put as much as a finger on. It's as if the feeling, the sensations were too slippery. Just as if I were trying to climb up a cliff, in pouring rain.
There never had been a single word spoken, in bed, or at the bed side. It's as if it had net been needed, but rather, it would have gotten in the way. That's my first impression, it still stick to me, as it is going to, even if I did not know it now.
What I had failed to notice, or realise, is the fact that the hand I place on hers, is the hand that is on her side of the bed. If it is a coincident, who is to say? If I had known whom of us initiated the habit, maybe there was a clue?