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10:29 pm Seoul
It's in moments like these, that I feel the change.
The shift in me.
The lighter heart and softer capability. My human range - as in emotionally scale and empathetic potential - has jumped lightyears. Travelled through lightspeed. Through galaxies. Past shitty attitudes, recluse behaviour and bad habits, and landed safely (barely) on the beautiful (mostly) planet of oh shit I've got a heart.
From pessimistic sadist to knee deep lover, I, like the first time I got hot and heavy over a woman, have changed.
Had changed - long since my first rooftop kiss.
A cure against my lips, it was.
She was.
-- But I'm losing focus. And how I've changed isn't exactly the point. No, if anything - if this was to actually be about anything - it would be about the moment, this moment - and what it needs. And needs from me.
The answer -- a delicate touch. A phrase once foreign to me, now required from me.
A loose wrist, and gentle hold.
A tender me.
Something like the newer me.
A me who is soft, softer then before.
Then the me before her.
You know... the lesser me then the better me now.
-- that's what this needed.
For me to be softer. For me to think of her.
Ha. Easy.
Though, and only slightly less, it did also require a little bit of the old me.
Just bits - the fun bits. The bits that still remain, hang around and come out to play.
You could say the parts I've yet to let go. Probably will never let go. The reckless, riskier, bolder, dirtier side of me.
The girl who holds another and knows exactly what she's doing. Exactly how to move and how to please.
