INNOCENT THOUGHTS OF A GUILTY MAN

He loved the way she slept. “How is that even possible”, he would ask himself? But it was…and he did. He loved everything about the time they spent together, the way his hand fit in hers, the way she laughed when he was being silly, and how she knew his response to something before it even happened. Familiarity can often be a buzz kill, but with her, it was a turn on. It was sexy to them the comfortableness of the space they shared, the coziness of their stare. He loved how when they went to the movies, after each trailer they would look at each other and shake their head yes or no, always on the same page. It was their thing, and although minuscule , he hoped she shared that with no one else. As they lay in bed she turns to her side and lets out a pout, arching her back. A tell-tale sign that she wanted a back rub. Which of course she knew she would get, as he always obliged. Lying there, rubbing her back, kissing her shoulder, deep in the midst of pure intimacy, the picture perfect

Brandon had grown tired of the fourteen hour days he had been putting in with little to no help from his co-workers whom conveniently found excuses to leave early every day. So on this particular Friday, with the sun high in the sky and the air summer time warm, he began wrapping things up quietly as to go unnoticed. While everyone else was tied up watching the latest viral video on YouTube he put on the blazer to his well tailored heather grey suit, straightened his navy blue tie, put on his designer shades, and slipped out the back door. A Devilish grin appeared on his face as he stepped into the sunlight, like a prisoner stepping out of the clutches of his capturer, he was free. He made his way through the crowded streets of downtown Manhattan and the seas parted for him as he strutted along towards his destination. He could hear the bass softly as he rode on the elevator going up and up and up. Straight to the top, he thought to himself, taking the time to smooth out his wav

He loved her. That alone was the problem, and the solution. It was his greatest strength, and his most vulnerable weakness. The selfishness of his love was terrorizing him... holding him hostage and greedily unwilling to let him go. Her love reminded him of the ocean, at times clear and pure and easy to see, and then dark and murky, full of danger and unknowns. Like waves crashing into the shore as he stood on the wet sands. Sometimes the water would gently come up to his feet, and other times the waves would rush in almost knocking him over. He stood on the edge of the water always cautious and yet always care free. No matter the temperature he would surely run right in given the chance. He hated who he was with her, but he loathed who he was without her. The lonely sailor lost at sea. Surrounded by the endless depths it became hard to tell where the ocean stopped and the sky began. And this is how he felt with her, as if up were down and down were up. Certainly he would love to find