The Pleasure Principle

I was not okay.

I was starving, sick, smoking far too much and sleeping far too little. I was dreaming, screaming, flailing, sick of being. I think if the worst had happened, if my heart had stopped, if my lungs had failed to inflate, if I'd been in a terrible, tragic accident, some part of me would have been grateful for the terminal, permanent respite from the sheer agony of existing. I hated myself, hated the world, hated God, hated life. I was haunted, and existing only through sheer spite alone.

The strangest things save you.

What are you thinking? he asked. Christ, his eyes were fucking beautiful.
It was a turning point. Stay or go? I gazed at him. And smiled.

Beauty exorcised my demons. Not all of them. But enough, I hope. I lost myself in perfection, unraveled the knots that held me strung so tight I thought I would shatter. I didn't think, didn't remember, didn't regret, didn't rage, didn't do anything but exist fiercely in a state of pure thoughtless pleasure.

That night, I exorcised your touch from my body, your kisses from my lips, the feel of you against me. I let beauty scorch all traces of you from me and felt perfection beneath my fingertips. Everything you did, he did better. And my heart was left intact.

I left reluctantly, pursued by kisses and laughter and one final gift.

And just like that, I was redeemed, pulled out of the endless darkling tunnel of pain. By such unlikely means as this. Salvation comes in the strangest forms. Helped along a little by the Raj, Miss J and Topher (thank you).

All of you were right. Life goes on. Albeit in a different form.