Please Come Back To Me

Again this morning I woke up before the sun had risen, repeating to myself, "please come back to me."  It is a prayer I make every morning and every night.  It is a wish for stars and wells and full moons.  It is a mantra to keep me moving forward, keeping myself a worthy person.  It is involuntary, these are the first words that pop into my head.

I want to buy him a new bed frame.  It is not my fault he had to throw out his old one, but I do want to give him the present.  I helped him carry it down five flights of stares when he decided that that's probably where the bed bugs were coming from, the bed bugs he blamed me for.  My roommates had them, the upstairs neighbors had them, Scooter had them.  Miraculously, I never did.  I wish that miracle had been saved for now when I need it more.

I'm broke, anyway, so it's a moot point.  He used to make fun of me and correct me by saying, "mute point."  I loved his teasing at times.  I told a friend last night that he was often like a kid brother to me.  I never thought of him as older.  I never thought of him as a father figure, though I did respect him in many ways.  In a lot of ways, I felt like I was the more mature one, especially where love was concerned.

This conversation happened after we saw Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  It had the usual Hollywood flaws but the pathetic story arc of Caesar made it very touching and very poignant.  I feel like Caesar these days, ripped from my home and placed into a world that doesn't understand me and vice versa.  I am in a prison after having basked in the freedom that love bestows, and it is because of one major mistake.  I missed my love all through the movie.  I missed the movies we would see together where I would rub his feet while I fed him little delights I'd picked up to surprise him with.

Once he jerked me off in a theater.  It was in the back row of an empty theater.  It was one of the hottest experiences of my life, sitting there with his hand on my shaft pulling softly; those wonderful hands of his.  Feeling him touch me was the greatest pleasure.  Just a soft caress now would erase all of the weeks of pain.  Just a soft kiss would deliver me from this hell. 

It was really hard for me not to call or text him after that, but I promised I wouldn't.  Instead I tried to call other people.  I tried to text other people.  Nobody was around.  I felt like I needed a sponsor like they have in AA.  I need someone who will say, "just put the phone down."  I just want to hear him breathe.  That's not true.  I want so much more than that.  I want everything.  I want the complete package.  He is the complete package.