1- Intro

The introduction to this concept is a short story depicting a young man's inner monologue as he encounters difficulty with intimacy.

Intro

     Alex opened his eyes into the new beginning of another day as the fresh morning sun streamed in from an opened window and warmly caressed his skin. He could feel his blood begin to sizzle as small, tantalizing brushstrokes of breath airbrushed his neck with calm, but leaving behind small tingles of excitement on every pore they touched.

     She was huddled against him as though desperately trying to keep warm. Her sleepy demeanour seemed to completely ignore the fact that the temperature was slightly hot as her legs were braided into his own and her neck rested in the small nook between his neck and shoulder while her hands were against his chest and sandwiched by their bodies. They were so close that he could feel the upward movement of her chest as she inhaled, as well as the quiet release of exhalation.

     He silently studied her peaceful image, wondering what she was dreaming of, wondering if she was dreaming of him. He highly doubted it. Completely oblivious to his meditative eyes, she made a small movement with a cringe on her face before slipping her right hand beneath his left arm, nestling herself even more into him. As the suddenly faint puffs of her breath gave way to playful shudders, an inner babble prospered on like a timeless slideshow in her fiancé’s mind, eventually evolving from thoughts about her, to reviews of their past chapters as well as aspirations for future ones. His sullen eyes travelled upward in silent thanks to God for all the battles won. But like so many times before, his chain of thoughts linked from battles won, to battles lost.

     In that very moment, laying so close to her made all logic seem obsolete. It had been a while since they’d slept so close, a while since he’d woken to her body entwined into his, a while since he’d felt those voiceless puffs of breath against his neck. Yes, things could have been better between them. There were so many things he wished he had done differently, so many choices he wished he could revoke, so many words he should have said. Over the years that had passed, it became apparent to him that, as he became more mature, the errors of his way would reveal themselves as new perceptions gave birth thought and eventually, wisdom. Still, it remained obvious to him that these realizations always seemed to take effect a bit too late.

     A small fraction of his heart wished she would awaken and save him from his manuscript of a mental stampede, but it was probably best that she stayed asleep so he could continue to bask in her silent beauty. Also, he was enjoying the ability to hear his own thoughts and she knew exactly how to pull him away from those, though as of late, she provoked them even more. It wasn’t intentional, but the very sight of her only reminded him that she wanted more. She wanted something he wasn’t sure he was able to give. She wanted all of him. He knew that she was entitled to what she was asking. After all, it was supposed to be all or nothing at all and that still shouldn’t be enough. It’s not like she wanted a kidney or a testicle or even his soul, she simply wanted his past.

     They had known each other long before they had gotten intimately involved and she could easily say that she was inside his head. She knew exactly how he used his thinking skills, she knew his favourites of everything, what words he liked to use in place of others, exactly how he’d react to different situations and stimuli, his habits, she even knew exactly where he kept everything he owned as they all had their designated places. But there was a massive field of memories in his brain that was thoroughly fenced. His childhood and growing up years, for example, were absolutely blank spaces on the pages of himself he’d let her read, and even if she’d pushed hard enough to glance the words beyond the space, all she could make out were illegible scribbles.

     He knew what had to be done, but didn’t think he had what it would take. The truth was that he had been alone for almost his entire life and the very thought of sharing himself with someone else was utterly terrifying. He was far younger and his brother and sisters, who left him at home while they were all engaging in their own pursuits and interests. It probably wouldn’t have been that bad if his father wasn’t a devout alcoholic with an abominable temper, a filthy soul and a lust for cocaine. Meanwhile, by the time he was just seven years old, his mother had already been admitted to a mental institution for severe depression, and even when she’d gotten home, she was usually too desolate to exist or desperately battling the withdrawal symptoms of her psychiatric medication. And he’d spent a lot of time talking her out of killing herself, something that wasn’t typically required of someone that young. Alex loved his family very much, but they were all remarkably clueless to the extent of damage that their torn lives had done to him.

     As a result of these, as well as many other circumstances, he had grown so fond of his solitude that the silence surrounding him had become his very own source of company, of shelter. It was the only thing that he knew was ever real. Eventually, it became almost impossible for him to endure the presence of others without taking short, but refreshing, intermissions from the crowd. He and his fiancé had had countless disputes about the fact that he was incapable of opening up, even to her, where she’d surely remind him that everything she knew about him, was what she had observed herself. It sliced him like swords inside to hear her say the words and he knew that unless he didn’t change it, the future would hold nothing for them.

     She couldn’t understand. After all, he knew everything there was to know about her. He’d known about almost every event that had ever taken place in her life. He knew about her most embarrassing fiascos, about her most painful memories and her most cherished ones, he even knew the things that she herself wished she hadn’t. But what they failed to realize was that, while she was inside his head but knew next to nothing about his past and feelings towards it, he knew everything about her past but was frantically trying to break into her head. In fact, it regularly irritated him to the extent that he felt the urge to peel her skin off just to see what seethed under there. He wanted so badly to see her insides, the soul that inspired the colour of her profound eyes. But those irises were as impenetrable as the sun and moon themselves and she never shared her thoughts. Instead, she kept them hidden like priceless treasure.

     Then suddenly, as if she could detect his internal warfare, her eyes began to crimple before they lazily opened…

Reviews

[Miss Sharon]

I'm hooked! Please let me know when you post more to this mesmerizing story. ~Sharon

[Kristan A. Mohammed]

Arm's Length is actually a concept compilation of poems and short stories that each have their meaning but come together to tell one tale. You should check out the other two pieces and then let me know if you still want me to update you and any new pieces.