Ocean Of Need

6 The Room - Secrets & Honey

August 23

That day, back in April, with the words of ownership painted on my body, was our first declaration. It was so fast, but it felt true. Did it feel the same way to you? I really believe it did. How then was it possible to go from that, to what we have now? An empty room.

It's strange how we now know every part of each other's bodies. Everything about each other's work, and what makes our creativity flow. And absolutely nothing about each other's lives? In the beginning it was me that was guarded. Did you sense that? Is that why you never asked me any questions?

I was keeping a secret, and because of that secret, I never asked you any questions. I never wanted you to ask them back.

That was our foundation. We didn't talk about the practical things that make a life, like family, or how we made a living. Instead we talked about creativity and ideas.

Creativity and ideas, intertwined with secrets, and perhaps, lies. Although I don't know that for certain.

When we weren't talking, or creating, we were learning each other's rhythms. Exploring what made each other's breath hitch, or honey drip.

I never told you about running from London. Or about Jameson, my Daddy, and my partner in crime who pressed an envelope of cash into my hands and gave me a plane ticket to San Francisco, as he rapidly tapped Freya's number into my phone. Or how he grabbed his bag, telling me he'd come and get me as soon as it was safe. Or how he left so fast that he didn't even kiss the top of my head. How could I have explained any of that to you, without putting him in danger?

I'm sure you have secrets too. You never told me if you had a family, or a life, or a wife, but I have a feeling you do. The rhythms of your day seemed to be built around some kind of responsibility. I even love you for that. I love you for many things. But I never told you that, and now I guess, I never will. Unless I can find some way to reach you. Some way to get a message in a bottle to arrive at the edge of your ocean.

Is this what this story is? One long love letter to you? Because everything we know about each other, was contained in this room, and because I idly thought we'd always be here, I never though about how I'd find you if ever you were to leave. Or, if ever, I were to have to leave.