Words of retort flew out of her mouth once more-she could not understand what had gone wrong. He watched her in silence unsure of this particular storm-everything had turned into a breeze of chaos and wiped away the love. There was no trust, no home that housed their feelings of safety anymore-they could not communicate without instigating another wave of uncertainty into their sanctuary-that place where they had met and loved and understood one another’s words, where time had ceased and two souls had collided in trust and unique understanding. But the foundation wore off as time exposed- their hearts were not involved-it was a product of pure passion and nothing more. And like any little fire that fueled a flame filled war-the spark was ignited whenever it was met with their words.
Time had a way of exposing hearts that were imbalanced in love-hearts that weighed too heavily on the side of lust-unsure of the many daggers that it hosts in its cup-a poisonous mixture that tempted many lips to savor its warmth-unaware that once it dissolved it left a permanent ache behind a temporary feeling of satisfaction. This ache has been the cost of many visions gone wrong-many clouded thoughts that have been subject to its warmth have faced the light of truth once it wore off. Unsure of what went wrong, how things changed, what factors were subtracted in their interactions that caused this pain to surface in their prism of satisfaction-unaware that it is just a drug that has worn off-a foundation built on sand cannot withstand a storm.
As their words collided once more-each rock thrown, another foundation of trust gone-the picture had changed from one of certainty to a thousand shattered images of broken promises. Nothing mattered anymore-nothing was sacred in this sanctuary-all was lost-because it was not protected, loved and sheltered. They had allowed the storms to set into their boundaries and wipe away each precious memory because of a careless unanimity in encouraging feelings that only could be touched-their bodies explored-their minds lefts uninvolved.
This was the danger of this game that so many played with reckless abandon-unaware of the cost it leaves behind in scarring hearts that are unsure of what is contained in its walls-where love is blinded with lust and thoughts are clouded with illusions that do not bear an honest representation of a person’s words. It is within these walls so many sit unsure once the drug of physical passion has worn off, of whom they are facing and what thoughts they inhabit because the representation looks nothing like the reality.
Sober once more, not filled with an alcoholic derision of poisonous love, they are forced to face a reality they are unsure of. And this is when words start flying around uncertain of their destination yet compelled out of an uncertain situation.
But both have been blinded by a temporary delusion and so both are targets of confusion and get hit extra hard in the collision-a recipe for a dangerous destination-unless there is a common agreement to investigate these emotions it is a never ending spatter of spontaneous premonitions that cause further wounds and break down the walls of a trust that was hidden in empty words-words that carried light promises of solutions-that now faced with the harsh glare of reality-had no power to withstand this huge tirade that carried so much negativity.
Unless both stand together in unison, unless both are determined to fight through this new found light after the blinded tunnel of physical explorations, there will be a loss of something much more than a connection, something much more will have to be sacrificed to mitigate the damage of this frail dream built on conversations housed on a sand filled foundation. When both hands fail to rebuild, only one cannot undertake this momentous task to refill-only one cannot be left alone to figure out the shattered pieces and how they fit into this new puzzle of personalities.
Both have to undertake this journey in order to rebuild-both have to communicate to ensure words are not misconstrued, to build a new home filled with understanding and communications, both have to speak in order for the words to form a solid foundation that can house a renewed connection.
If one is left to undertake this depth of pain and confusion, if one is left alone to reinvestigate the clues left behind by the collision, it is an expired connection-it will not be revived without both hands of affection, it will only expose more indecisions, and leave room for more collisions, and one set of hands cannot rebuild both prints of persuasion; no matter how determined the pursuit to reignite the fire of friendship, and build on a foundation of love-one set of dedicated hands is just not enough.
One set of hands cannot map out the path to a renewed bond that was built out of near disaster. Both hands need to spring forth-there needs to be reconfirmation in action not words-through shoveling through the dust of lust, they may both stumble on the pearl of love-only if both search in alignment with true determination. This love is not built out of lust-it is built out of a commitment to words-it is built through intentional actions that water the wells of trust-this is what is needed in this space of loss.
But when there is just one-one set of hands frantically searching for the pieces through the storm, it is just not ever enough. And once those dedicated hands face the light of understanding this momentous task is just so much more than they can resolve, they too will leave behind the ruins of a lust filled storm. And that could be the end of a conversation that was initiated in a genuine communication but crashed into a chaotic pattern of indecision through lack of consistent attention.
A lack of support, strength and safety-not offered through the process of exploring personalities would lead to a dire set of circumstances that both prints of commitment are needed to survive it.
And when one is left behind with this bloody set of circumstances, the battle has already been lost because of a failure of dedication from both parties.