Adventures of Love

Him

Why is there a draft? My brain is awake first, my body has yet to catch up. I can't move, only rapid thoughts. Why is my breathing so weird? Deep breaths and slow down. Breathe in one, two, three…. breathe out one, two, three. That is better. I still can't move my body, but my brain is settling down. The room is dark with a sliver of light shining through the window. Outside is moving. What is that noise, before all I could hear was the pounding of a heartbeat. Now, that is more in focus, I can hear swooshing. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh…what is that sound? Is that a train?

Sitting straight up, I am fully awake now and my eyes are taking a moment to adjust. My body aches in places I didn't even know existed; specifically, the right side of my hip and my back. In the middle of my train bed there was an awkward hump. I was on my side in a fetal position. My back feels crooked, but I am blocking out the agony for the moment. It is eerily quiet, and I am in a hospital gown. There is drool on my face and an IV connector hanging from my arm.

My brain and body are trying to sync. Every time my senses alter, I am aware of a new component that sends me into a new momentum. I am in a compartment car. It seems to be a car in the middle of the train, it feels like a big train. No need for a hope and a prayer with some rope and gravity for this one. On time, would be late. I am alone, the car feels cold, but I am sweating.

Slowly moving to the side by the window, careful to make as little sound as possible; I look out the window and confirm the big moving train. I knew before it was confirmed, but I still had to look. My thought process still seems off and I feel the need to verify things I normally wouldn't second guess myself. Almost as if my brain cannot recall the right information but knows it is there somewhere. Like a dream, that has faded as the day went on. It becomes less memorable, less definite. The recall of emotion and feeling becomes more leading than the recall of physical awareness.

I lie back with my eyes closed. What had I gotten myself into this time?

Her

Why does he do this to me? If there is one person that can make me scream into rage, it would be him. I don’t, of course. I wouldn’t want to be labeled unstable. It’s like constantly standing next to a ticking timebomb, expect you realize it has started ticking too late. Suddenly, it is exploding next to you and at first you are unsure of where it came from. Then, in retrospect, you can reflect on the signs that were missed.

Physically, emotionally, mentally; he goes somewhere. I lose him to his nightmares that haunt him in the dark. It doesn’t matter if he is at work or standing in front of me. They never evade him. The trauma takes him somewhere deep in his mind, the part he won’t share. The part that needs to heal and he refuses. He won’t even acknowledge it. It is maddening. I see the scars, the scars that no man should have. I’ve asked but haven’t pushed. Too scared to push. Scared he would leave. Scared I would lose him for good and he would never return. He always evades, deflects, anything to change the subject and convince me it’s not him, it’s me. Everything is fine and great, and he loves me. Liar.

We were doing it again. The cycle. It was vicious and we couldn’t stop. I was drawn to him like a magnet. I had to do something. If he would leave me physically, emotionally, at random, unannounced, and unacknowledged, then I would leave him for good. Permanently. Except, I wouldn’t. It was exhausting.

He didn’t understand that I needed him. Losing him sent me into a spiral of depression. His anger didn’t help. My anxiety didn’t help. We were like oil and water, fire and ice, anything completely opposite of what helps something survive and grow.

There is an exterior shell that I refuse to remove for anyone. He attempts to use this as the reason for our arguing when I lose him. Classic deflection. Defense walls for my shell then on the rise; that enrages his anger and creates even more distance. We can only go so long before we fall back into each other’s arms and the cycle continues.

When I think of losing him forever, I am gutted to my core. It leaves me feeling so empty I cannot eat, breathe, sleep or function. That said, I might have to. No one can live like this. As much as we love each other, this is not a life. Why torture ourselves when we can’t do anything other than hurt each other’s hearts.

When it’s good it’s too good. We fly high on life in sync together. We are an unstoppable train and it’s us against the world. Is it even worth it? Sometimes I think I will not survive another day being denied his soul and heart. He acts as though it’s too much for me to handle, but normal for him. As though due to the fact, he is a man, the expectation is that he is tough and will just deal with whatever emotions life throws at him. What happened to being a human? I need emotion from him, for me, not for him. Will he ever open his heart to me, or will I always feel this void from him? Is this the life we chose, torturing ourselves?

Him

The sound of the train is soothing. It is giving me the wherewithal to control my breathing and focus on the next task. Assessing my situation, my first thought is I need some water. Moving as slowly as possible, I start to look for anything else that is in the car to give me clues. Standing now, and there is the draft again. No wonder, I felt that when I first woke up.

My eyes focus on a tray of water bottles, and I immediately start to move towards it. Clutching one as fast as possible I open it as though my life depends on it. At this point I am unsure if that is true or not. This water was the most delicious water I’ve ever had. Still unsure, if that is true; but in this current state, it is an absolute fact. Instinct leads me to look for clothes next. I don’t see anything immediately. The car is clean and in pristine condition. It is a compartment car of gray seats and red design, and it feels familiar to me.

As I start to dig through the cubbies and look around, I find my thoughts on loop, behind my search for clues. As if they are running on a train in the background, on loop in a circle, like a child’s train track in their basement toy room. The secondary tier of my brain that is processing and I am semi aware, but not focused. I see her.

She is going to be furious. I can’t lose her. Those are the two thoughts that are repeating the most. Mixed in with others of worry, despair, and agony. She is my world and in this moment of time there is nothing else in the world I want more than her. I may not have everything figured out, including why I am on a train, but one thing is for sure, I love her. I want her. I can’t live without her.

She was telling me this entire time. Like an idiot, with an ego, I pretended it wasn’t true. Ridiculous, I know. Is she looking for me or did she finally give up because I am a stubborn and reckless?

Her

He should be home soon. He will pretend nothing is wrong, again. I just want to feel his arms around me. I want him to hold me and calm my nervous heart. If only he would allow me to do the same for him.

Instantly, I am reminded of the last time he came home. It’s so odd how you can know someone so well, you can predict their movements based on habit and muscle memory. He will walk in, put his wallet on top of the fridge, pull out a chair, sit down, take his boots off, sit there for a moment, sigh, stand back up. The sound becomes a calming sequence of familiar noises that wakes me out of slumber while simultaneously providing a sense of relief. He’s home.

Last time, his arrival time was so late in the evening, I woke to his hands running slowly up my legs. He goes slow over my calf while working his way up to my inner thigh, his favorite. He takes his time, allowing me time to fully adjust to what is happening. He waits for the acknowledgment to keep going. Of course, I am going to give into him. I always do. I want to, my heart can’t deny him. Sometimes, I only wonder what it would be like If I wasn’t available to him. Our love has always been honest and raw. All except the part he evades and pretends is not there. It’s inevitable this was our homecoming. My body responds to him, and I can feel it wanting to move.

He moves his face close to mine and his beard starts to tickle my face. Once his lips find mine, the need and desire for each other take over both of us completely. His grip on my legs tells me how hard he needs me. His other hand is gripped onto my waist, pulling me towards him, while simultaneously lifting me up. My body has completed melted into his with want and pleasure. He’s picking me up now as I am pouring kisses on him with the same lust and pleasure my body feels all over. He repositions us while I continue to linger in ecstasy in his arms. He crashes into me as we hang on to each other with need and passion. There is so much emotion running through my body, I shed a tear as our bodies soar as one. I love this man so much it was ridiculous. And he loved me.

The memory of the last homecoming reminded me how when he touched me it was as if nothing else mattered in the world, for that moment in time he could own me, if only for a few minutes, in the palm of his hand. It was overwhelming with as much comfort as it did terrify me.

I can’t help but wonder if this homecoming will be similar? I’d be denying anyone to say I would prefer otherwise. It was a lust and desire that no one in the world would ever satisfy; other than him.

Him

Our last homecoming was intense. The thought of her in our bed, her naked legs with a silky pair of underwear. Usually, she is wearing some sort of top. Depending on her mood it could be anything from a torn t-shirt, sexy lingerie, cute pajama top, or simply a bra. It was rare she was completely nude. Teasing me with the part that drives me the most insane, her legs. I am aroused just thinking of being close enough to her to hug and inhale her sweet, earthy scent. Her legs will bring me to my knees at the mere thought.

Getting back to her is the only goal at task now, besides finding proper attire and understanding the condition of myself and current surroundings. Precarious situations seem to find me. Or maybe it is the other way around. Her brightness shining through with the more clarity of the love she was describing. The love we have been missing due to my precarious nature. Without her, this void will live there forever. To deny her any longer will be denying the one thing I was put on earth to do, love her.

The lantern in the corner isn’t on. My conscious is aware it must be early morning, wherever I am. The lighting that shines through the car makes my brain aware and I can see the sun starting to rise. After getting the lantern on, I can see a little better. A black duffel bag on the top shelf of the car provided what I was looking for, jeans, boots, socks, underwear, t-shirt, and a cowboy hat. No train ticket though, dang it.

Hydration and comfort clothes will do wonders for the body and mind. Clarity rings loud now. The memory of why I am here has returned; how I got here, specifically on a locomotive train, has yet to return. Destination also remains a mystery, although I am less anxious. He came through for me, as he always does. I find it hard to believe he would throw me on a train without leaving signs for identifying information; although, that seems to be the message. Stay low. Stay light. Blend in.

The mystery of why I do this to myself has yet to remain; however, I finally know I’m done with this job. Living in fear of who would find out and take her from me. It is no longer fair to her, and I understand now, it is not worth it. It was not worth risking her life for my job; therefore, it was compartmentalized. Like a bento box filled with different parts but don’t touch. The identities are separate.

He had me committed to get me out safe. I see that now. I never would have left on my own. The rush and high was too addicting. Chasing them conspicuously and always going undetected. Taking them out one by one. The simplicity of working for myself was another draw to the job. I am a high-profile investigator that tracks down dangerous people across the world. Known in the underground as TI5; I track information of level 5 targets and report back habits for planning. It is dangerous. It is thrilling. I am an old man for this industry. The horsepower has slowed down in my lane. The only addiction I want now, is her. I need to find her and tell her I’m done with it, before I lose her for good.

Her

I wake the next morning to no sight of him yet. Instinct and previous scenarios have confirmed I should not be panicking yet. Still, it’s hard to not think about the possibilities of him never returning. It is what I signed up for. It was clear from the beginning it was a dual package, him, and his job. I had no idea how much of that would be unavailable from him, and especially, how distant it would make me feel.

Is this what becoming an adult is? Realizing that human connection is all we want. Accepting people with all their packages? Count me in if it is. I need him. I love him. I don’t care about the distance. When we are together, I know we are both home and that is what matters. That won’t change.

WHEN he gets here. I am not ready to address the word IF. I will tell him I’m in, for all of it. He told me he was hard to love. While I didn’t feel the need to save him, I felt he was a bit dramatic with the hard to love shit. He wasn’t wrong. I underestimated what he told me. There is ownership in that. I have no problem with that fact. The problem is with his is distance and refusal to admit he needs me just as much. Why am I considered a threat? A danger? That is how he makes me feel.

The worst part is I don’t even have anyone to call and check. The job is so dangerous only his boss knows and the chain of command necessary after that, if any. None of them even know I exist. It was far too dangerous; according to him. I have nothing. No details. Just an approximation of when he will be back. My anxiety takes over for a few days when this happens. Mentally, I crawl into a hole with walls just for me. I once heard that if you deal with your problems alone; that meant you had to deal with problems as a child alone. Which is an absolute truth for me. Even most basic survival skills were lacked to be taught.

I need to compartmentalize before my anxiety sends me on a downward spiral without brakes and unable to stop, like a runway train or a ghost train, I can’t tell. All fears will be set aside until tomorrow. If by then, he is not home. I will allow myself to cry and panic for the afternoon. It has taken time for me to learn the balance. If I don’t get it out; it will fester. The sadness also cannot consume me. I am too active, too driven. The next morning, I will compartmentalize again and wait to see if I need to set aside another time to cry and get it out. Ugh, this is exhausting. We are so close to being reunited. Whatever he gives me I will take with gratitude and try to replicate the same. This is the only way to grow with each other instead of opposite. I will stop asking so much of him and love him for who he is, even with the distance.

He just needs to come back to me first.

Him

After finishing a protein bar found on the tray, I felt much better. Things were clearer now than they had ever been. It was if the ocean became clear of all the debris and garbage left by humans. Something we all hope and wish for, but the likelihood of us seeing it is too farfetched to believe. I hoped for this day; but did not believe I would see it.

Morning has arrived and I can see clearer out the window. I see the Australian outback. At least I know where I am. I must be on the Indian Pacific. Makes sense he would send me here. I am headed to Adelaide, Australia. This information gives me another opportunity to calm down and I am thankful for the recognition both with the landscape and my pounding heart. The train journey from Perth to Adelaide is approximately 48 hours. It is morning, and I can tell I have been sleeping for a long time. There must be about 24 hours left until we arrive. This gives me time to investigate and plan. I need to see her. When we arrive in Adelaide; I will set on my adventure to her. It will be my last travel adventure without her. I am done living adventures without her.

Adelaide isn’t as I remembered it. I haven’t been here in over a decade; but I’ll never forget it. It was the place I always knew I wanted to be. The architecture of the churches is gorgeous, and the pace is slower. I own a two-bedroom, one bathroom cottage in the countryside here. I head into the city unnoticed and blend in when I need to; but for the most part, we could homestead there if we needed. It is designed that way for solitude. My entire life, this has been the most important thing to me. The balance of my solitude needs. It was fulfilled with my never-ending travels alone. The rush of trying on different disguises and seeing new places.

It is all over. She is the future. Anger boils up with me for denying her for this long. Her beautiful face appears in my mind’s eye.

By the time we arrive in Adelaide, I am much more confident in my current mission. Once in the city, I had to figure out how to get to my cottage. I would prefer if no one drove me, as I want to stay low. A bike would be resourceful as I feel like I need to move my body. Without one in sight, my brain starts to think. Where in the city would I find a bike to use; without being noticed and without money.

Memory brings me back to a vision of seeing a food delivery bike for the Maylands Hotel, Bar and Kitchen. I stayed there while I was on a job to stay close to a target. It’s been a decade; but a place like this doesn’t stop traditions. There must be a bike there.

It didn’t take me long to find the bike. I will repay them. I always do. Hopefully, the bar manager will know it was me. This won’t be the first time I’ve done this. He eyed me skeptically when I brought the bike back the first time, ten years ago, we chatted, I explained it was an emergency. He seemed to know I was lying about something but knew it was better not to ask more details. Authenticity will do that. He could tell I was holding back to protect him but that my intentions were only good. That comes across in humans if you are paying attention. Like a watch a dog around a human that is untrustworthy. Both will almost always be providing you with cues.

In the history of showers, planning and packing, that had to be a record. Making my way back with a vehicle this time and the bike strapped to the top. I parked the vehicle outside the restaurant so the manager would see the bike. Hopefully, he will forgive me. My awareness of the emergency is, in fact, only MY emergency is not lost on me. I hate inconveniencing people; but desperate times call for desperate measures. Is this how an evil person justifies their crimes? Is that me now? Evil?

Too much in a hurry, I decide I will contemplate that later. I make my way to the hanger to find a flight out. There must be a flight out to Minnesota, USA. If not, there will be one.

When I land in Minnesota, USA I am reminded of the July heat. Calling her is too risky. I need to know she’s safe and I wasn’t compromised. Preferring to travel at night; due diligence settles with me the entire time, checking behind me, in front of me, keeping my dark blue Twins Baseball hat low, all while being discreet. It was as if my entire life had trained me for this mission. They don’t know I am still working or was still working should I say. So, they shouldn’t be looking for me. Even if they did, everyone thinks I went insane in the mental hospital that ended in mortality. I wonder who the poor guy is that they used as a replacement. They were so good at it by now, it was scary. Evil was after me, so I was wiped out in a mental health hospital, as a precautionary measure. The world thinks I am deceased, I am no longer that person. I am only the person she knows. All the other masks will disappear. He came through for me.

She knows everything. The only one. The last adventure was always planned for us to retire in Adelaide together. I hope that is still true for her and I have not lost her to my wild heart and blue bird. I want nothing more than to bring her back to the cottage and give her everything she has been asking for. I just need to get to her first. We are so close to being reunited.

I am almost through the airport; just need to obtain a vehicle. I am hesitant to use my real identity; however, it is the only one left. It felt weird writing my real name for the first time in a long time.

As I make my way down the highway, I am flooded with thoughts of her and our future. Future children, the cottage, the homestead. As I make my way towards the exit there is a flash, was that lighting? Or an explosion?

Her

No sign of him. I am devastated. Crying in a fetal position/ball on the floor hysterically crying it all out. What if? What if he was made? I let myself feel the pain and worry that it could be my new reality. Eventually, after I lay there for what seemed like hours; I got up, washed my face, and drank some water, then fell asleep.

Awake again and no clue what day or time it is. I feel like I slept like a ton of bricks. My body usually falls into that after I allow the emotions to physically evacuate and cry it out. It’s exhausting just as it is refreshing. As I lie there wondering what will be, I wonder if I should start an adventure to the cottage. He always tells me to wait a week. ONE week? I’ve barely made it three days and I can’t breathe.

Maybe if I manifest his last homecoming over and over that will put me in a better mindset. If I can find a good thought and keep it on a train loop in my brain; I can usually pull myself out mentally to think clearly. A shower would do me some good as well.

After I clean myself, peace and sleep are on the list; I go to our sanctuary bedroom and turn the lights low. Sensory distractions are a thing with my anxiety, they have been since I was a child. It is an instant reminder to breathe and reduce the sensory around me.

Sleep and the dream state of sleep come quick, as no surprise. My body is the same when I fight a virus. A virus in my body or mind and both require sleep for me to recover. The memory on loop of his last homecoming. I slowed it down in my brain to savor every moment. The touch of his fingers on my legs. His scruffy brown beard when it touches any part of my skin. The feeling of being held in his arms and not having a worry about what comes next. Each moment I put into slow motion in my thoughts. My body started to mimic the emotion and I was finally breathing calmer; my body was more relaxed, and I felt safe.

I stayed here for as long as I could. I knew once I released myself from this dream state of mind, I would have to face reality again and I wasn’t ready. I only want the memory to be real. The homecoming I’ve been dreaming of for days. The love from the man I love. The need and desire I know we both feel, coming together at once.

I don’t want to wake up and lose this. Am I waking up from a dream? My body involuntary shaking and he’s crawling his way up my body. Instant kisses while his fingers linger on my legs, he’s home. Tears are flowing and he is telling me it’s ok. I still can’t tell if this is real or a dream. He’s whispering in my ear, and I can do nothing but cry.

Is this a dream or real? I need to pull myself from this dream state and find out.