Prayer Beads
Previous - this entry written on June 14, 2006 at 3:04 am - Next


Picture a spiral. The outer edge is too large to be even seen completely... thick, dark, full of detail, a collection of pictures and words and spilled ink... but it tightens, brightens, until it works inward to the center, that fine-point moment where the infinite is condensed to this:

One single, simple memory.

One word, whispered by unseen lips.

One reason, for everything, for anything.

Hi. My name is Jax, at the moment. It's been other things, quite a few of them, in the past. Likely it'll change again in the future, fall along the wayside like every other name I've been given, or had to answer to, or accepted, or demanded. RIght now, my name is Jax.

Four friends. Two books. A small orange cat.

And now here I am, writing on a sexy laptop that ten years ago I wouldn't even have dreamed of, listening to music that twenty years ago I hadn't ever heard of, didn't believe it existed, all I knew Way Back When was that the world was full of possibilities. I've gotten things. Done things. Been things. Seen things. I've had enough experiences for ten lifetimes and I'm still not done yet.

That doesn't stop moments like these.

Hello, girl. I can feel you tonight, stronger than usual, on the edge of my thoughts as I am sure I'm on the edge of yours. It's a strange feeling, isn't it? Knowing that some things never really break... just fade in and out, a slow pulse that forms the heartbeat of something that this, our lives this time around, are just a fraction of. I don't think it is coincidence, really.

I remember sitting in the storage closet of a rather new-wave-ish church, talking with someone who seemed to be my other half.

Do you?

Heya, theunre. You're far away, and we may never meet again, though gods know I hope we do and I'll do what I can to make it possible. I can't even begin to tell you how much you matter to me, y'know... I've tried before, and will no doubt try again, but words just fall short. You have a key to my heart, love.

I remember waking up to see sunlight on pale skin, faint bruises left on your body, and you with this drowsy little half-smile, looking up at me from inside a cage.

Do you?

And you... girl, boy, both at once sometimes. So much confusion, but I think you're happy now with the body you have, happier than you'd be with a cock between your legs. Being female suits you, my cat, and I'm glad that you're still here. I miss you and I haven't even met you.

I remember brief, half-teasing conversations between a couple of felines, one with black fur and one with grey, the way a pixelated interface could become real.

Do you?

Hello to you as well. No, I'm not forgetting you, not by a long shot. I can't forget you - no one else has quite managed to make me feel that completely owned, that alive, that thoroughly claimed... and understood. There's a part of me that no one else will ever quite get as deeply as you did, y'know. You've ruined me for anything but casual Doms.

I remember the way it felt to curl up with my head in your lap, and the conversations... the long, half-rambling stories, fantasies, the dreaming world that we built together.

Do you?

I loved, and still love, you. You've been part of my life and I part of yours for how long now? Long enough that this silence is frustration, long enough to make me miss you even if I know I've been silent for a reason. Long enough to remember that this happens, every so often, and to remember why it is that just as often I find myself talking with you again. You're a brat. You're mine.

I remember watching girl after girl try to win your heart and actually feeling jealous. I knew you'd come back to the one who matched you eventually, you always did, but... the waiting hurt.

Do you remember?

A gleaming mask, the taste of pizza and cum, music and military and gods, I miss you, boyo. You've been one of the things that has kept me from the shadows, y'know. Always, even when you and I have not spoken in months. Years, perhaps. I still have your words saved here and there.

I remember being on the edge of eternity. I remember curling up beside you with no doubt in my mind that right then, the universe was designed entirely to let me hold you, and you me, in a tacky hotel room in the middle of the night.

Do you remember, my silver-tongued lover?

Hello, lightning and thunder and rain. I feel as if you saved me, caught me when I was falling, about to crash. Somehow you picked me up, you were the center of my world for a while, my rock. I miss being able to curl up beside you and feel you petting me. I miss it more than I have words for. You deserve a life where you have the comforts and stability I can't ever give.

I remember so much, but most of all I remember sleeping peacefully because I knew that I was beside someone who could, and would, protect me from everything bad in the world.

Sometimes I wonder, what do you remember of me?

Hello, Tarac... a half-forgotten name and years shared with someone who I still believe I existed to be near. It ended differently than I expected, I hurt you, and you have no idea how sorry I have been for that. You gave me my freedom. You really did. Until I met you I was running headlong toward another suicide, hating my life, hating myself, hating the dead-end town I thought I would be stuck in forever. You showed me that I was more than just the shell I'd built up over the years. You made me feel beautiful. You made me glad to be alive.

I remember, after the parting... I remember coming over and just bawling, crying into your arms, soaking your shirt, realizing how much I missed you.

I know you remember me. I love you.

Hello, my hellhound. Of course I mention you, the one who of late has been the bit of drama, the fierce protector, the person I turn to when I need someone to hurt. It's still rather ironic that it was my First who introduced us, and that my reason for bothering with you at all to begin with was simply the pleasure I knew I'd take in ruining you. So determined, and even so, I find myself feeling protective more often than not.

I remember your Name, given to me, a way to call you back when the shadows within your own mind grow too strong for you to fight them. I remember our conversations, so very intense, so very real.

Do you remember, pet?

And you... you, who has kept me by your side longer than anyone else has ever managed. You, who has given me shelter, showed me comfort and love, made my life into something that is consistantly worth living. You, the one I married.

I have no need for memories when I speak of you tonight, because right now you lie beside me, half-asleep, and I can simply turn my head to see you there. You are here with me, and I am glad.

So many people.

So many memories.

"There are not worlds enough, nor time..." ...perhaps not a perfect quote, but it stands regardless, even the infinite dreaming that I tumble into at times is still not enough to outweigh this world and the ones I treasure within it. Some nights I dream away the hours, caught in the mists that surround my mind. Some nights I simply sleep, unknowing, unconscious, not even a whiper of dreamtime.

Tonight, I am awake. I am remembering.

I miss you.

I miss you all.

For tonight, all that I can do is hold these moments close and wonder what it is you are thinking of, if you are awake, if you are perhaps thinking of me.

I suspect at least one of you is... but for her sake I hope she is dreaming, rather than awake. She needs her rest.

I miss you.

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