excerpt from 'Quandary' - A novel by jonny feelgood

chapter eleven : The direction of love

Water hurts when you haven’t had it in a long time and you’ve been running most of the day. It almost makes your mouth drier after it’s swallowed. My eyes are closed tightly as I try to suck water out of my cupped hands. The small pool of water I found is my salvation for the moment while I catch my breath and quench my thirst. I feel compelled to look back from where I came just to retrace my footsteps. Out of exhaustion, I just sit, drinking and breathing heavily. Sometimes these human bodies really suck. Everything in me is screaming, GO! GO! GO! And this body just whimpers, no, no, no. Looking back is a waste anyway, I know full and well where I came from, it’s where I’m headed that matters.

The sun sparkles in the pool like a thousand splinters in the ripples as my hands drop water I didn’t drink. The sparkles remind of the stars on a particular night. I lose myself in the splinters of the sun dancing in the water, I find myself in a memory…

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It’s night, before we sleep, we smoke a cigarette and share stories of  different pasts but similar views and when she speaks my soul is warmed by her energies many hues.

When I hold her in my arms, it feels just right. It feels like I’m not forcing it and its just falling into place like perfect puzzle pieces placed by practiced puzzle players. I love to feel the warmth of her body entangled with mine as she falls asleep. It charges my heartbeat with a quick pulse of excitement because I know she has such a hard time sleeping but in our embrace her rest is deep and soothing. 

I get home from working, the bed is made, laundry is put in the closet and all I can think of is how I could have this forever.  

The night before, we laid silent for a good bit of time before we exchanged a particular kind of dialogue, the quiet of the night kind, the hide how you feel but still this certain level of intimacy kind. I reach for her and she comes to me. I hold her. My head nuzzled against hers, my arm wraps around her tummy like a safety belt, my legs tangled into hers and I hear her thoughts change rapidly. From there, my soul scans her body and I feel the beating of her heart racing, the quickness of her breath. She is excited, anxious, and nervous of the moment that she is held by me. In her mind she is talking to me. There is more to this than she speaks of. She does not know how she feels about me. She knows the power I have is the doorway to her greatness and somewhere in that she is curious if I will kiss her.

When we talk, we feel compelled to be honest and withhold nothing; we are scared that after finding endless connections to each other that the road will end; the honesty will pay off and pave miles more.

The lining of my stomach turns inside out to evaluate the overwhelming population of butterflies when I take a moment to look through her eyes. Her eyes are hungry for the power within me, she wants it, wants to learn of it and rise to her potential. She loves me for this possibility and because I am so giving to her.

I know that I love her, not for the reasons she loves me, but love nonetheless. I can’t seem to choose to love her as my student, sister, or lover.

I am afraid to love her as my lover.

I am afraid I already do.

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I can’t see the city in the horizon yet but I can tell by the vibrations in the ground I’m going the right direction. My heartbeat has slowed with my resting and I push hard again. I can feel my heart pummel into everything it surrounds with every new beat and every beat brings me closer. 

Quandary

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