Love Bites

An oval shaped purple ring at the bottom of my right ribs reminds me of my of weekend. At the center, dark purple spots seep into pink and fill up the circle. In a few days, the bruise will turn green. Then it will fade to yellow before finally disappearing, swallowed and reclaimed by my pale skin. After nearly four years, such marks are tradition. Like a ringed stain left on a coffee table by a sloppy red wine drinker, this marks me as his. Eventually erased by time and distance, the mark on my ribs and the one on his shoulder symbolize our relationship.

Oh The S. Will I ever have the capacity to sufficiently describe him? Our ephemeral interactions are framed by long periods of absence. Tender moments of intimacy and kindness are eclipsed and overshadowed by unconscionable cruelty. I've been loved and hurt more than I thought possible by this one man. This one man challenges and sustains me like no one else. In this one relationship, I understand everything and realize that I know nothing. Our time together satiates me yet leaves me craving more. Our similarly hedonistic natures allow us to inflict pleasure and suffering without remorse or regret. All that matters is the here and now, where ever we happen to be together. Against logic and the best efforts of our friends, our we continue to be fascinated by one another. Moths drawn to the flame that threatens to light them on fire. Over the course of our relationship, he's lived with two other women in PA while I have bed hopped in DC. Different though our paths maybe, my passion for him has never faded.

As much he belongs to me, I belong to him. All of me and none of me simultaneously.