It’s still too hot…”kids temp” meant I should be able to taste my drink I thought. Coffee…If this is considered coffee, tasted more like a liquid donut. It was 05:57am at Starbucks, it’s interesting watching people as they rush, almost like they didn’t plan that everyone else here wants the same illicit drug. And who am I to be prideful, I fall to the same narrations as I order my five adjective long drink…*”simple can be so complicated sometimes”* I think to myself.
As she arrives, we greet, and I take her coat and lay it on the chair adjacent to mine. I walk her to the counter signaling her ahead as she recites her own order, as I watch and study.
We sit down sheepishly at dawn in this very public place while I grab my own drink and sip to test the temperature again…holding my pen and notebook and begin writing. I stare—listening, while we share secrets, and I have her running in circles with questions making her recall memories. I searched for moments where she spoke of boundaries, expressed and embodied some form of confidence in her words until she finally broke, and came to a realization, through that a request:
*“I need you to teach me how to feel, because I don’t trust myself anymore. I’ve got these defenses, when it comes to others intentions for me.”*
With wide eyes, and hopeful stares…I met her gaze by taking a deep breath.
First—*“I personally am no solution, to these feelings you seek…and I was never the answer here, so forget what ever thoughts you had of me. You covet a place of solace…but you need to own it here,”* pointing to my own chest.
I follow up with *“Trust is something that must be won. Before I can ever attempt to hurt you, much less teach you how you feel, I’ll have to gain your trust.”*
Contemplating a way to convey all of this I thought to myself—
I’ll have show how there is a balance in form, between the anchor and the pivot…a sleight of hand and the twist in a wrist. It’s about posture, presentation, and how you lean into the kiss against the flesh. Follow through is everything, the evidence will show in time.
In repeated executions of our meetings, I had her practice patience between sessions…the self soothing state of control, centering her in the science of demise and quiet meditations. Peace isn’t won head on, it’s a slow knife with brilliant art and etiquette.
Inside of repetition patterns began to emerge, and signs of trust formed that few attempted to understand with her. The depth was in the reason…there’s no guessing here. This “here,” is gone.
*”You need to understand how to drop first, so you can wake up in the breakdown of the things you never thought you could be.”*
I took out a piece of paper and scribed these words in broken lines in quick sketches upside down to her.
Saying…*”Over the last two months, do you know why I continue to show up here with you each Tuesday morning?”*
“No Sir…” she said.
“It’s because I can see progress…and in the time…I think we’ll begin to hold hands in the dark, not so we don’t get lost.”
Continuing…*”It’s because in the dark we can trace shapes and memorize the contours of our partners. The comfort is in the familiar. You don’t need a beacon of light when we have trust, trust isn’t a construct you could even quantify—it’s a feeling that’s supposed to haunt you.”*
I lean to her ear and whisper, *“That’s how you feel…”*
Then I closed my journal, shook her hand, and ended our conversation on pleasantries…letting her ponder on those words.
*“I’d like to see you again, but I believe now you’re ready for a different approach…”* then I handed her my note, smiled and exited the room.
“Trust is found with familiarity in the dark. Same time with coffee in hand: 2700 Accomac Street”
Disclaimer: *These works are written in fiction, and though may have ties to people, places, and things that are real—the names, events, and timelines are displaced.*
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yhga0s/solace_in_valencia_pt1_how_to_feel