The Perversity of Love

Sleeping is worth thought. To be alone in sleep is to be alone. In sleep as death one is on one's own. It is not in sleep but in being awake contentment lies in bed. I was content. She lay next to me. I could feel her warmth. In sleep her body was relaxed compliant and a delight to touch. I touched. I lay on my own enjoying the perverse joys of loving togetherness.

I thought of past lovers, my ex wife, my daughter, my brother and my recently deceased mother. I thought of loss. I thought of mortality. I feared for her by my side. She had no evident concern for her being. I did.

What could I do? Take and not think. Feel and not be responsible. Or act.

I acted. I wrote live on the Net. It was 5am. Her, gentle and trusting, a sleep next to me.

I was to leave this morning for a problematic future 2600kms away. I knew I loved her. I hoped she loved me but what if she were pregnant and I dead. The thought would not go.

This was the month my father died, in fact today, 25years ago. Would I follow this pattern? I knew this was silly but I must act. I must make the connections that I thought mattered for others. What thoughtlessness passes through ones selfishness. But act I must and did..

I pressed the send button and the fateful letter to my daughter, co addressed to my lovely brother and my unknowing dear lover asleep next to me. I wrote my past away. I had sealed my future with that click. I divorced myself from there. I became of here with no past and a future sealed. I acted out of what i thought was love, compassion and responsibility to all and created.............................