Page 23 of Clear Your Mind

“It’s okay, Buddy. You’re not ready and I’m not the one you’re ready to tell. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He just stares at me. Naked and hurt. I smile. “I don’t regret telling you. You were my right one to tell, and I thank you for it.”

Awkwardness seeps into every pore of my body. Do I stay the night and pretend none of this happened? Do I get dressed and leave? Will we hook up again, or is it over? A million questions assault me. But there’s one louder in my mind than all the others.

“Buddy, is it what I told you? I’ll understand if it is.” I won’t understand. I mean, my mind will, but my heart won’t. However, he doesn’t need that heaped onto whatever is going on inside him.

Before I know it, he’s in front of me, hauling me against his body. I feel a tremble between us, and I’m not sure if it’s him, me, or both of us. “No, love. Not you. I need to touch you though. Are you okay with that?”

Nodding, I lead us around to the side of the bed. I expect to resume our previous cuddle position, but I’m wrong. Buddy arranges me just so at the top of the bed and climbs in the other side. Laying his head in my lap, looking up at me.

A strange position at first, but then he wraps one arm up and around the small of my back while resting the other on his abs of steel.

It feels very caring and relaxing.

Domestic.

“I was in love.”

That’s it. Four words and a giant pause. I hold my breath waiting for more and I begin to doubt I will get it.

“I was the only one. Well, not the only one, she was in love too, just not with me.”

I try to school my features, but my face has always had a mind of its own. His sad smile tells me so much. I watch in slow motion as he lifts his hand and brushes some hair back from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear.

A shudder racks my body.

The finger trails down my cheek, following the curve under my chin and down to my crystals. Lifting one, he rubs it between his thumb and fingers.

His smile morphs away a little of its sadness. “What’s this?”

I don’t even look down. I know what stone he’s touching, and I can’t explain why.

“Apache tear.”

He doesn’t ask what it does or what it means. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s anything more than jewelry. But he doesn’t let it go.

Realizing his soul needs it, I reach around and untie it. As I lead it down toward his neck, he holds tight.

“It’s also called obsidian,” I explain as I tie it at the side of his neck. “Stones and crystals have properties.”

I silently add that I believe all things that come from the earth have properties if we only take the time to understand them. However, I hold my tongue and leave it at crystals have properties. People tend to be okay with crystals now that soccer moms and millennials are. Go much deeper or broader than stones they see as decorative, then their eyes glaze over.

Baby steps.

“It helps with sorrow, forgiveness, and grief if you’re open to it. I’ll bring you a longer cord tomorrow because it looks like a choker.”

His attention leaves the stone. When it lands on me, I notice my heart is no longer where it should be. It’s beating within this man instead.

Twenty-four hours and five plus orgasms and I give my heart away.

What in the actual fuck.

It’s going to get broken; I don’t see how it cannot.

The hand that was holding the stone is now gently guiding my head down. Our lips meet and I taste his pain, but I also taste hope.

The kiss ends, but he doesn’t release my neck. Our lips are so close. When he does speak, I feel his words, taste them.

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