The sax tunes of Sentimental floated around - it breaks my heart. Funny, then, that every time I hear it I think of him - of Nachiket. Strange, I suppose, that I should associate beautiful music with him. Stranger still that this whimsical flight of fancy is something I cannot share with him. With anyone.
I hear symphonies in his moods. Heartache and tragedy, light-hearted playfulness, repressed passion, ready to burst forth in all its glorious, vibrant colors and transcendent sounds - all are played out visibly in his eyes, as if they alone housed the orchestra and I - I am the conductor.
How he touches me so deeply, so thoroughly from across a crowded room is a testament to his simple eloquence, his lover's soul. He breaks my heart, with every indrawn breath.
I can't tell him that, I won't - I cannot risk the repercussions of his guilt. That which hurts him, hurts me. And I'm not up to it tonight.
He doesn't know how he affects me. He is my caffeine in the morning, my sunlight at noon and my starry, magical night.
And he breaks my heart.
I've tried so diligently to protect my heart; I've worked exhausting hours building a high wall around it. But he is so strong...I can't get away.
But if I could - I wouldn't want to. I couldn't bear his absence any more. The passion that so consistently deals me a deathblow is also my saving grace.
How could I give that up? That, in truth, would be the heroic, unselfish thing to do -
We hurt each other, every day. It's always unintentional, always "for the best". Or for the lesser of many evils.
I hurt him when I close off, back up - play the distancing game. Why? Am I trying to save myself by hurting him?
Why can't you understand that?
You're upset with me, I can see that. You think I should be better than you. Well, I'm sorry that you feel that way, but I am human.
Why can't you trust me?
That's all that I ask of you. That's all that I've ever asked. I told you long ago that I trusted you, yet you can't seem to return the favour.
Why can't you see that I love you? Why can't I tell you this?
I did this to show you how much I loved you. Your ears fall deaf to my pleas. You seek only to condemn me for my perceived betrayal. I don't know what to do to make you hear me. I need you and I need your help.
And he breaks my heart. When he smiles, when he's serious. When he's hurting or well. When he laughs and cries and begs my forgiveness. When he tells me he loves me.
Please, won't you just look?
He breaks my heart.
And he puts it all back together, in the space of one kiss.
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The End
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