feeling of being inside her...
Their relationship could have consisted solely of sex and it would have been leagues beyond any delight most men ever know, but Terry thanked God that that was not the case, as her value went so, so much deeper than that.
Victoria was as understanding a human being as he was sure he'd ever encountered in his life. She was caring and compassionate, yet she knew exactly what questions a person preferred not to be asked, and refrained respectfully from asking them. In the months they'd been together, she'd never once prodded into Terry's murky and mysterious history, even though on multiple occasions he'd almost been able to detect the curiosity in her eyes as a tangible thing. Instead, she'd simply been there for him, offering to listen and to support him through anything he cared to discuss, but respecting the fact that there were things that a person felt obligated to keep to themselves, not only for the sake of others, but for their ability to go on living.
But of course, that didn't stop those very things from haunting him for the rest of his life, from robbing him of what should be the thing that makes him happy.
The past never gives up quite so easily as that.
Furthermore, Victoria was an accomplished trilinguist, having traveled to several nations around the globe and occasionally lived there abroad for months at a time, expanding her mind and the wealth of her experiences on this earth, enriching her personality in a way that only travel can accomplish.
She was an avid reader, burning her way through two or three books a week, continuing to explore the depths of human consciousness even after physically settling down for a while. She meditated, volunteered, was an active runner who participated in charity runs, practiced yoga, occasionally taught yoga, was an exceptional cook and a vegan, a great dancer, and could be incredibly creative when the mood struck her. And all while building a successful career in business, getting very close to paying off her student loans, and maintaining an eternally chipper, optimistic demeanor.
Victoria, Terry thought, accomplished more that was more worthwhile in a week than most people did in the course of a given year. He didn't know why the hell someone as sad and pathetic as him could have ended up with someone like her, or why any human being might have been arrogant enough to believe himself worthy of her inebriating love.
In fact, sometimes he asked her this.
“Why the hell do you love me?” he would say.
And she would look at him with those eyes of hers, and she would smile at him with that smile, and she would say, as though it was the clearest and most obvious thing in the world, “I love you because I know your heart, and because I can see that it's a good one.”
And he would melt, even as the words passed her lips, even if he never really believed them.
He should have been as satisfied with his life as anyone under the sun, but of course that didn't go very far in actually making it so.
If he was truly satisfied, would he be gazing up at the obtrusive light of the full moon at three o'clock in the morning, instead of snuggled up naked in bed beside the woman he loved, spooning her soft body, feeling himself unified with her in as intimate a fashion as is possible between two human beings?
Would he be putting his hands on the windowsill, gripping the wood tight beneath his grip, and waiting anxiously for the morning to come?
His lunar transformations had ceased upon meeting Victoria, yet the full moon still exhibited an immense pull over him, a wakefulness that he could never quite seem to shake, which often drove him insane on nights that it occurred.
Almost worst than the past itself was the reminiscence thereof. Remembering, again and again and again . Fearing that one day he may wake up and discover that this life, this existence with Victoria had all been a sham, a feverish dream, a celestially induced bout of lunacy, and
Their relationship could have consisted solely of sex and it would have been leagues beyond any delight most men ever know, but Terry thanked God that that was not the case, as her value went so, so much deeper than that.
Victoria was as understanding a human being as he was sure he'd ever encountered in his life. She was caring and compassionate, yet she knew exactly what questions a person preferred not to be asked, and refrained respectfully from asking them. In the months they'd been together, she'd never once prodded into Terry's murky and mysterious history, even though on multiple occasions he'd almost been able to detect the curiosity in her eyes as a tangible thing. Instead, she'd simply been there for him, offering to listen and to support him through anything he cared to discuss, but respecting the fact that there were things that a person felt obligated to keep to themselves, not only for the sake of others, but for their ability to go on living.
But of course, that didn't stop those very things from haunting him for the rest of his life, from robbing him of what should be the thing that makes him happy.
The past never gives up quite so easily as that.
Furthermore, Victoria was an accomplished trilinguist, having traveled to several nations around the globe and occasionally lived there abroad for months at a time, expanding her mind and the wealth of her experiences on this earth, enriching her personality in a way that only travel can accomplish.
She was an avid reader, burning her way through two or three books a week, continuing to explore the depths of human consciousness even after physically settling down for a while. She meditated, volunteered, was an active runner who participated in charity runs, practiced yoga, occasionally taught yoga, was an exceptional cook and a vegan, a great dancer, and could be incredibly creative when the mood struck her. And all while building a successful career in business, getting very close to paying off her student loans, and maintaining an eternally chipper, optimistic demeanor.
Victoria, Terry thought, accomplished more that was more worthwhile in a week than most people did in the course of a given year. He didn't know why the hell someone as sad and pathetic as him could have ended up with someone like her, or why any human being might have been arrogant enough to believe himself worthy of her inebriating love.
In fact, sometimes he asked her this.
“Why the hell do you love me?” he would say.
And she would look at him with those eyes of hers, and she would smile at him with that smile, and she would say, as though it was the clearest and most obvious thing in the world, “I love you because I know your heart, and because I can see that it's a good one.”
And he would melt, even as the words passed her lips, even if he never really believed them.
He should have been as satisfied with his life as anyone under the sun, but of course that didn't go very far in actually making it so.
If he was truly satisfied, would he be gazing up at the obtrusive light of the full moon at three o'clock in the morning, instead of snuggled up naked in bed beside the woman he loved, spooning her soft body, feeling himself unified with her in as intimate a fashion as is possible between two human beings?
Would he be putting his hands on the windowsill, gripping the wood tight beneath his grip, and waiting anxiously for the morning to come?
His lunar transformations had ceased upon meeting Victoria, yet the full moon still exhibited an immense pull over him, a wakefulness that he could never quite seem to shake, which often drove him insane on nights that it occurred.
Almost worst than the past itself was the reminiscence thereof. Remembering, again and again and again . Fearing that one day he may wake up and discover that this life, this existence with Victoria had all been a sham, a feverish dream, a celestially induced bout of lunacy, and
Similar Books
