Mar 142013
 

His fantasies are elaborate, spanning days and distances. In them, he takes advantage of material and incorporeal opportunities that don’t exist for us. He gives me grace and purpose I don’t have. I’m not sure if he sees me better than I am or if he writes me as he wants me to be.

The woman in his fantasies, she has my green eyes, my voice, and shares my best intentions. She isn’t quite me, but I’m pleased to see some of myself in her. (Or is it her in me?)

What separates us is that she is far more adept at twisting and shaping him for some predetermined, dramatic climax. I have no such foresight and little self-control to moderate my impatience. I take what I want when I want it, and usually, I want it now.

What I want is often some little thing that gets stuck in my head. Those little things are what grow into obsessions and fuel my fantasies.

(an email to J)

When I think of you, when I want you the most, there’s no rope, no implements, and no agenda.

It’s just you and me and my want for some part of you, some little obsession I can’t get out of my head.

There’s that beautiful muscle just to the right (my right) of your throat that comes into relief when you’re not sure whether you want to move toward me or move away. That lovely little muscle just above your collarbone — it’s one of the few, rare ways you ever show hesitation. I love it when it betrays you.

That muscle. I want to wrap my teeth around it.

Feeling your hesitation, trapping it between my teeth, holding it there so we can both enjoy it… that’s what I’ve been wanting today.

 

  5 Responses to “fantasy and obsession”

  1. It’s difficult to tell at times if it’s the obsession that feeds the fantasy or the fantasy that feeds the obsession. Either way, those fantasies are what fill in the gaps between visits. They’re what makes the time apart bearable. But those same obsessions and fantasies also make it hard not to consume him when he’s before you. Or something like that.

    *ahem*

    Did it just get hot in here?

  2. One of my favorite things about your blog is how real you make J seem, at least to me, your average voyeuristic reading stranger. I have wondered on occasion to what extent the boy described in the fantasies you share here is ‘quite J’.

    • Thank you. :) I’m sure like anyone writing their own account, there are times I make J out to be slightly better than he is, and sometimes, slightly worse. It’s not intentional, it’s just the nature of one-sided reporting, my mood, and how we are at any particular moment. With that said, I’ve got no allegiance to reality, I’m just not all that creative.

  3. When I think of you, when I want you the most, there’s no rope, no implements, and no agenda. It’s just you and me and my want for some part of you, some little obsession I can’t get out of my head.

    Yes, exactly! Isn’t it strange how those little things come into focus? There’s a young man I haven’t seen in far too long, and I find myself thinking of his wrists, how they feel, how they move and tense and relax. It’s as if wanting all of him would be too overwhelming.

    • @GingerNic: That is strange and interesting!

      It’s as if wanting all of him would be too overwhelming.

      I never thought of it that way… I just assumed I’m a bit OCD. :)

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