sex-confusion

Physical electricity, I can’t do anything about it. The mind has no hold over the thoughts that flow upwards from the heart, downwards from the heart. He is what I used to be, I recognize my own insecurity in his eyes, his body is thicker, more masculine, not quite a man yet. His every move fills me with excitement.

I am not like them, the fixations I have.

He knows about me and I know what that means because I used to be like him. I want him to know but at the same time I try to cut the connection with a fury, just to spare him from that which I have already been through. I want to protect him from the gut wrenching fear and despair. I want him to love himself without my meddling.

I feel alive while I’m slipping into their consciousness like a thief breaking into someone’s private space and afterwards I sometimes feel guilt for doing what comes naturally.

The females are safe, controlled, and unaware of the games we play together; the women play their own private games, oblivious to us men. I want to slip inside their minds and feel through their bodies, I want to know their thoughts and do. I want to comfort him like a woman cannot, the men want to reciprocate but still differentiate because of their conditioning.

One meeting a soul from a past life, meeting a sexual partner from a past life in a body like my own, with a soul so like my own, with a lust so like my own, with a need so like my own. Yet we both remain alone.

She provides the missing, she is the embrace I need and she needs me. She is like a mother and I am like her father; one meeting a soul from a past life. I would carelessly spend years in her company just because it feels safe; the conditionings have made it safe for me to lye next to her and not feel afraid. She could transform me, mould me and she does but still I am not content, the years are empty.

When I felt him for the first time he was a metre away and I knew then how we coincide. I never felt the calm before, it lasted just minutes but felt like a lifetime, it felt like an eternity because it was, it was recognition and a remembrance. It was a realization of time before birth, life before conception.

The second time I felt him he was hundreds of miles away but he was on fire for me. He was burning for me; again it was recognition because I used to be like him. I know what it feels like to be him sometimes. He was reaching out to me for comfort without lust, for love without hope, for someone who knows what it is like to burn.

Are we burning together in vain while they surround us and watch us, they always keep an eye on us and try to own us. They want us for them. I am their brother, I am their father, am I their lover?

We carelessly spend years in their company because it feels safe; it feels right because of the conditioning.

I have not yet let myself explore his body, it feels impure, I have no private room where he lies naked on a bed waiting for me, like a mystery that has no place in this reality. I have not felt his hand in mine, when I shook his hand we were straight.

It’s not strange that she accepts me, she is open to everything I hide inside, she is curious to know about my private lives, who can blame her? We once shared everything together, we once were one but we cannot go back at this time. The love we need to have together is out of reach because of the way we feel in this dimension.

I love her when I am not with her, I adore her when I am not burning, and I surrender to her when I am cold, she cannot set me on fire like he can. They cannot set me on fire like he can.

This life is a changing room, a changing room with a curtain. This life is a distance I seek to overcome, a valley I must cross. Love is a mystery to me, it has no outcome, it has no time span, love is the rain that falls softly on my hard earth, it is like rain that fills the cracks but disappears, and it dries up within hours, I have been so thirsty. I have been looking upwards, waiting for the storm, waiting for the wet season, waiting for my own personal monsoon.

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