| March 10th, 2002 These last few weeks, after our first time together making love, have been perfect for me. Every day, every minute, it seems, I fall deeper and deeper in love with Alex. I can’t help it, though I’ve tried my hardest to stop it. The connection that I feel with him is stronger and more intense than anything I have ever known. Sometimes I’ll lay awake after we’ve made love and watch him as he sleeps before drifting off to sleep myself just before sunrise. His beauty takes my breath away every time I look at him, and my heart still jumps at his every touch. And slowly, a small seed of hope has taken root in my heart. I know that no matter how he feels I’ll stay with him forever. But lately, I could swear he looks at me with more than just compassion in his eyes. Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, but I truly believe that there is something more in his gorgeous brown eyes. I see it there when we’re making love. The way he gazes into my eyes as our bodies connect, it just…there’s something so powerful between us. I feel it each time we’re together. I can sense more than just kindness when he’s buried inside of me. I can taste more than just gentleness in his blood. It’s so powerful, so amazing…there has to be more. I just hope that with time he’ll realize it and see it for what it is. All I want is to make him happy. Besides all of this, his behavior has changed as well. Previously he was always kind to me, but I knew I was just serving the purpose of combating his loneliness as well as providing him with someone to dominate. But it’s been different lately. There’s a certain amount of trust to our relationship that wasn’t there before. Once, as we lay in each other’s arms after making love, he told me something about himself, his past. I had wanted to ask him questions about his history for the longest time but hadn’t dared. But as I lay there with my head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking my hair, I listened eagerly to his brief story. He told me, rather vaguely, about his human life. How the time period was not exactly kind to men who were attracted to others of their sex. But that he had fallen in love before only to end up getting hurt each time. He had whispered to me that his entire life had been painful. A string of broken hearts and addictions to substances he ended up needing just to make it through the day. When offered the chance at immorality, at escape, he had grasped at it with both hands. My heart broke for my lover, my maker, and I had snuggled closer to him, ran my hands affectionately over his chest, his arms, wanting to let him know that I would never do anything to hurt him. He had pulled my face up with both hands and simply stared into my eyes for a few seconds before kissing me gently. That kiss had melted my heart, because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, there was more behind it than just compassion, or even lust. I could sense him fighting those feelings, terrified that I would hurt him the way those countless others had. That’s why I didn’t push it, didn’t rush. I’d wait as long as I needed to for him to see that I’d give him what no one else ever had. After all, we only had forever. |