Talked out

My friend was there as I came out of the immigration interview. He had beautiful flowers in his hand, blue (violet) and white, symbolic of my new adoptive homeland's national colours. I pretended at first that I had not succeed, but could not contain my happiness that I finally secured the first step towards permanent residence here in Canada. I kissed him on the cheeks, and hugged him many times, thanking him over and over again. He was also very happy for me, and smiled so many times so beautifully at me.

We went out to lunch, and I excitedly told him about how the interview went. We met other friends who were all sent me wellwished and congratulations. It was a generally happy evening, despite my fatigue from the stress and sleeping only a few hours.

Then he came home with me, and that was when the mood suddenly, unexpectedly changed. It began with him snooping around my email inbox, one thing led to another, and we were up till late again having difficult discussions about his feelings and confusions, about our former relationship,  deciphering our minds and the past. It is good to get all the thoughts and words out into the open, good for my friend to vent all the bottled emotions and frustrations. All of what was said seems now like a blur, (or perhaps I am just too tired to be able to digest them and coherently put them into words...?) At one point, it felt all a bit much, with my long and stressful day and interview, and then having to sort through emotional luggage which is not getting any lighter.

Even so, I promised my friend I would be there to listen, that I would be there to support and comfort him when he needed.  I think I did that, even though at times it was very heavy and difficult to listen and not be affected deep down. I sat, and I listened, because that is what friends do for one another... that is what he has done for me on numerous occasions, and my friend deserves, needs nothing less from me.

By the end of it all, we were all talked out, and we lay next to one another in bed, trying to, pretending to fall asleep. I felt his breath, the warmth of his body, felt the softness of his skin, the sensuality of his touch. I can only imagine how the smell and warmth and touch of my body aroused him too. And again, like so often in the past, after long, difficult and painful talks, we began to explore each other's bodies. Did it feel good? Was it so intoxicating and so damned arousing? Yes, it was, yes it was... Did we both need relief, and did we succumb to our desires and simple, carnal pleasures? Yes, we did, yes, we did.

But the questions, the doubts, the confusions are still lingering and lurking around in the background...