I still remember us from months past, back from the movies on a night as cold as this, sat in a taxi whose driver didn't matter to us, listening to the knocks of the drops of rain on the taxi's roof, to the hum of the rain and wind storms bathing the city in waves as the taxi meandered the flooded roads, that one moment love bore witness to just you and I, when we were more flesh and blood than just the names we now are.
I had leaned your way, in what was more of lust of you lost in the love of the ecstatic moment, alternating breaths of fire between a corner of your neck and an earlobe, whilst sniffing the fragrance of your hair. You'd tilted away from me and abandoned your face on the foggy glass of the taxi, my eyes had fought the darkness to meet yours scanning through the city in the movie-like effect of looking through thick rain, I still remember us.
Perhaps there was more to your tilting away, perhaps there was more to your eyes left inches away from the taxi's glass in the stead of the glassiness of my teary lovestruck eyes. Perhaps there was more to that night than I'd thought, perhaps it wasn't just you or I but fate playing a scene out in life's live movie.
Two days ago I saw a man offer a lady a hand out of a taxi, both looked happy together, and sure of where their train of love was headed. It reminded me of you, of us, of everything we were those months, only that we were never as happy as they seemed, or never could tell what station our love train was bound if we ever caught the same train, and what surprise the next station held for us.
That night you had your face away from me sat in that taxi, I'd braved it up to plant a kiss on your neck, high on emotions from sniffing the smell of your hair and licking the smoothness of your skin. And I'd thought we were fine, 'cause a moment later you'd darted your face my way as my tongue glided through the bumps erupting from beneath the skin on your neck and cheeks until it brushed over the softness your lips, on those supple layers of flesh I'd licked and sucked and bitten.
Luscious kisses like those shared that cold rainy night explained the 'Chocolate' I named you and I swear you were just that. I would often lick my lips minutes after your tongue and lips flicked and brushed over mine 'cause you seemed to leave my lips coated with some sweetness all of the time. Perhaps it was just me high on emotions, on love that would never leave me alone with you by my side.
And so when you'd broken away from those kisses teary-eyed, with guilt written on the whiteness of your eyes, pupils dilated by uncertainty or maybe fear, lips twitching in the orangeness of the street lights, I'd lost myself aching for the dish of words I knew you were cooking up in your head, words your lips were afraid to utter.
Those words had not come but something in me churned just few streets away from your home, when you'd let the tears held for too long stream the length of your cheeks, your eyes darting into mine passing a message I'd understood yet was afraid to admit, of love burning but due to be quenched. Just five blocks away from your door you'd whispered loud enough in the rain yet low enough to have me straining the words "I'd miss you Sugar," then went on to slip a letter into my palms as you stepped out of the taxi into the rain, hopping through your doorway while I glared.
On a night like this, just like the one from months aback in that taxi, when you'd made me realize a break up is the last chapter in a dead relationship, but the first chapter in a fresh love story, there's nothing more to do but read through the lines of your now dog-eared letter, my head rested on this pillow that still smells of your hair, my body lain on this sheet that still smells of your skin. The words are the same as ever, only that I can't vouch for the feelings.
Sugar,
I'd love you all my life. You know I never would have believed I'd end up with the guy I first met smoking pot behind a truck outside a party. You swept me off my feet honestly with such boldness when you'd squeezed my ass 'though I swept your cheek with a slap, albeit I loved the squeeze. But you'd laughed it off with a spark of guilt in your drunken eyes, the first of many smiles I'd grow to love.
You remember our second meeting? When you bumped into me haggling with some mad driver over a fare you offered to pay? It was the second time you would charm me on two occasions. Then I realized I didn't need a third meeting to accept my heart longed for your craziness, for your care and free-spiritedness, for the charms in your eyes and smile, I fell overly mad for you, and I really did offer you my all.
The last night we spent together I stole glances at your phone while you slept. Did you love me enough yet couldn't bear the pain of deleting Fav's nudes? Did you really sleep with all of those ladies you mentioned in your chat with John? The blow jobs and 69s, love making rushed and slowed through, wild sex had on your balcony, was I not enough in any way you couldn't tell me if you loved me?
My heart says it's you, but I deserve better, and you probably do too, although it hurts I fought to be everything you wanted in a lady. Perhaps I should have given another thought my ass wasn't the first you'd squeezed and won over with that charming smile that draws souls, and those eyes that burn fire. I hope she'd never fall so easily for you the way I did; people don't take the pain to keep things they didn't suffer to get. I hope you two would make the best of everything now I'm gone and left the coast clear.
Chocolate.
The letter falls off my hands on to my chest. It's months now yet none has taken your place. You're the chocolate melted from the fire of our hurtful past written on the surface of my mind, left on the different planes of my heart to cool off. This cold night, it hits me Satan had not aimed at tempting Adam when he was a loner, but when he had Eve, and had left him alone after he'd fallen. Perhaps I'm the 'Adam' of my time, tempted by side chics who are now gone alongside the lady they scared away. It's hard to know sleep each time I read through your last words Chocolate, just like this night; it's hard to admit those tears confirmed my fears.
You were right about my flings, and having to let go the strings holding us as one from stings you couldn't bear no more. "Death is the last chapter in time, but the first chapter in eternity," folks say.
This cold night, I hope to kill that broken-hearted part of me, to not wake up with tears in my eyes wishing you were by my side, to bury that part of me that aches for you just like you had the part that ached for me on a night like this months aback, in that taxi whose driver we didn't care about.
