A Commotion of Emotions

I had a friend. And that friend became my lover. He was my lover for eight years. He used to write amorous and devotional poems in my honor. Waking up from my sleep in the middle of the night, I would find him lovingly stroking my hair or massaging my feet. He would buy me all kinds of gifts. He would listen for hours to my sob stories and offer me his shoulder. He taught me to dream, and he taught me to laugh again. He held my hand and brought me on the path to recovery.

That man was my dream. The love was a fantasy. I felt blessed. I felt fulfilled and contented. The man became my anchor in the storm of life.

Time, the unbeatable villain struck my happiness. The love of tender and starry-eyed poems, of stroking my hair and of unending adulation has remained frozen in some long lost moments. The fantasy melted.

I reconciled to reality as I struggled with my understanding of the changing world. The dust began to settle down. Then a breeze blew. It was fresh. It was unsettling. It took away some of the dust. The heart was exposed. New desires stemmed in. Confusion brewed. Commotion of emotions happened.