"Not Love Nor Lust"

I do not know what had happened when I first tried to let myself go and find pleasure and comfort with another's company. I've watched for years as others in turn found each person and I’d born friendships from my confirming words. I'd kept a neat repertoire of humor and had always hinted of being one who enjoyed life's love. At times I seemed as if I was anxious and excited but I always knew that I would be the patient one.
When I felt comfortable juggling the oscillating cycle that I knew life to be, standing there legs solid on the ground and finally able to unfix my upward gaze, I consumed a breath of ease and saw you there with an open smile. You had always been there before, silent and easily becoming apart of the blurred foreground but as I found less of a need to focus on the lightening rhythm of those orbs, I found your stoic gentleness intriguing. Words then had spilled out of my mouth eager and apathetic to my mind’s instruction and a glance of your eyes forwards at me would spare only my sight set aback and numb all sense I held. Thereafter we had acknowledged each other’s desires and had confessed in an unspoiled intimacy that I will now always be denied from.
It was not a mistake. That cold instance that had occurred several times before, that fleeting moment that snatched confidence and warmth out of our hands with uncomprehending vengeance was not a slip from affection’s grace. It came with such a weight that it forced the essence from my body outwards and left instead a sharp emptiness which now still bruises the walls that fortress my heart. This loftiness that presumes over me cast as a darkened cloud could not have been a simple accident of luck but a signal of truth in what would eventually come.
The bearings of weighted life had come full circle and my balance would be tested. Like a child unable to fit the shapes which seemed so simple, I sat in confusion with the pieces of sorrow fragmented in my hands. My grasp of my world was limp and unready at the challenge of troubled orbs that came hurtling at me from the sky. I could not restore my motions and I lay there against the chilled earth waiting for a warm embrace that would lift me from the darkness that I felt.
I felt none. I could not find sense in any; my body lay as stone and my vision colorless left without the demand of desire. Life, however, could not keep itself in such a torment and begged me to move, to let it flow once more amongst the others, to warm the ground I had submitted to inhabiting. With no more strength in me than to watch, I bid it through and drifted once more into current.

is it really a process?

When the seasons of this earth changed chilling the warmed soil with purposed tenderness, I noticed only the crushed taste of the air as it eased onto my tongue and the bright minded days that then became timid with the nights' silence. It was at this state of vigor, when I still hadnt yet begun counting months and seasons past that I drew my first sip of water from the basin that would soon demand the whole of me...

I didnt notice when I started disappearing. It could have been that I was never really there to begin with but Im not so sure. When I walk across the dark faces of the streets that are estranged with eery lights, even my shadow forgets who I am. The puddle that I stepped in barely takes notice and quickly becomes another sliver of glass, the rain disrupts it more than I do. Theres a sharp chill that makes its way through my thinning coat, straight to my spine and it whispers to my soul that I am alone.