man of the night
I was 18 when I fell in love with a boy that only existed at night. He smelled like citrus, marijuana and freedom - a sobering breath of crisp air at 3 in the morning. Our conversations always ended in laughter, though I sometimes wonder if he was actually funny or if it was the alcohol in our systems. He would touch me in a way no other man could ever and then he would disappear when the sun rises.
At first, I believed I would be content with the look of pure lust in his eyes when he saw me. We found each other every few weeks when he was drunk and searching, me, lonely and willing. We would talk and fuck till dawn and by morning, I would cease to exist to him.
But one morning when I woke up with my head on his chest, I realised that this would never be enough. After 2 months of deluding myself into thinking I only needed him physically, I gave in to the fact that I no longer wanted to be someone he saw 4 am after the clubs had closed. I wanted to see his bright blue eyes glimmer under the sun, not under the red glow of the club lights. I wanted him to laugh at my jokes with that same time-stopping smile in the daylight over lunch without substance in our systems.
I tried to replace him but the new boys didn’t smell of citrus and they certainly didn’t taste like freedom. They left me feeling grimy and I would strip away the bed sheets as soon as they were gone. Our conversations left me bored, annoyed, and angry at myself for letting them touch me.
I was 18 in the pub with my friends when I found out he had a girlfriend, just 2 weeks after he last asked me to come over. The pints I had downed earlier were instantly washed away by the sudden heaviness in my chest.
She got him in the daylight. She got the version of him that didn’t need alcohol to find her interesting. She got lazy Sundays and candlelit dinners, the warmth of his hand on hers in public. I got him in the dark, when he was reckless and hungry. When his words were slurred and his touch was desperate. I was lust, a convenient body to reach for when the night was ending and he wasn’t ready to be alone.
He was always capable of more, he just never wanted that with me.
