Daddy Dustin
Daddy Dustin is here & queer.
"Who else will love you, if I did not?" The comment was flippant, and at the time he thought little of it. Now, he sat with great heaving sobs wracking his small frame, eyes rimmed red from the tears that refused to halt flowing down his cheeks despite how he ordered them to do so. She had been an enigma, a beautiful rose in a garden of weeds, molded from tiny particles of stardust that fell from a shooting comet. Their love had been a short affair, but passionate. Full of stolen kisses and laughter echoing against the walls of every room they inhabited.
She had inquired of him, almost belligerent in her musings, why he did not fear losing her. When faced with such a question, one could do little more than brush it aside, for ego was a beast that fed greedily on misguided notions of self-assurance. She had been persistent in her line of questioning; which should have been a neon clock flashing above their heads, counting down to the time when all was bound to unravel. And unravel it did, a string knotted together is bound to at some point or another. They were strung together with heady passion mingled together with broken promises.
She had been his one and only concern in a world crowded with worries nipping at his heels incessantly, desperate to drag him back to a world filled to the brim with fear. Everything was black and white without her there; his shoes, the sky, the walls, his life. The only thing that held any color was her eyes, a dark hue of brown that called men as any siren song would, drowning him happily in despair if he could but see her smile but one more time. Though music had warned him of the devastating blow of heartbreak,no one song brought light to the crashing wave of agony that currently engulfed his every thought.
He could think of nothing less but how she had looked with the sunlight streaming down on her golden tresses, leaving an ethereal halo to form around her every step. Or how she had looked when she laughed, lips parted and head thrown back as she shook from the force of pure joy thrumming through her veins. Her laugh was what he had missed most; knowing that she was now in the embrace of another and they were hearing the sweet melody. It brought about a feeling of apathy; the lack of being able to account for any one emotion. Instead, every beat of his heart belonged solely to her; only to stutter before coming to a full stop. He was no longer a live, but a shell of a being left aware only to wallow in the current displeasure he found inhabiting his bones.
To think that she was conscious of his current plight, but thought little of it, was even more devastating. He had bombarded her phone with text message after text message, letting her know each thought that raced through his mind and every emotion that wrenched his gut. Her replies, if any, had been curt. She cared little for the cost of his heartbreak, nor for how, thought she had once told him that his tears only managed to weaken her resolve, now strengthened it. He couldn't help but question every aspect of his life now, for if her love had been a falsehood he had failed to uncover until too late, he wondered what else could be such. How had he not seen the dull light in her eyes as she had been wrapped in his embrace, nor hear the uncertaintity in her tone when she spoke of their love. He wanted to place the blame on her, but he could only see where he was accountable for not recognizing the signs as they stood before him.
"I can change," he exclaimed for the thousandth time. "I can change." The words were much softer this time, holding no resolve. He was curious as to what it was that she did not love about him, and how he could work to shift these pieces of himself as if his personality was chalk full of puzzle pieces that failed to fit together. What she failed to see in him, he also failed to see in himself. HIs every thought revolved around what he could do to in order to take away his pain, even at the cost of his own life. For, he failed to see what worth his life held if not to stand by her side. What he knew now of love was it was a cruel mistress, one who found delight in absorbing every bit of happiness a man could hold and twisting it to fit a darker, more sinister purpose. What he now knew of love was to be the last he ever felt of it, for there was no light, only rain. What he now knew was the feeling of inadequacy.
She had inquired of him, almost belligerent in her musings, why he did not fear losing her. When faced with such a question, one could do little more than brush it aside, for ego was a beast that fed greedily on misguided notions of self-assurance. She had been persistent in her line of questioning; which should have been a neon clock flashing above their heads, counting down to the time when all was bound to unravel. And unravel it did, a string knotted together is bound to at some point or another. They were strung together with heady passion mingled together with broken promises.
She had been his one and only concern in a world crowded with worries nipping at his heels incessantly, desperate to drag him back to a world filled to the brim with fear. Everything was black and white without her there; his shoes, the sky, the walls, his life. The only thing that held any color was her eyes, a dark hue of brown that called men as any siren song would, drowning him happily in despair if he could but see her smile but one more time. Though music had warned him of the devastating blow of heartbreak,no one song brought light to the crashing wave of agony that currently engulfed his every thought.
He could think of nothing less but how she had looked with the sunlight streaming down on her golden tresses, leaving an ethereal halo to form around her every step. Or how she had looked when she laughed, lips parted and head thrown back as she shook from the force of pure joy thrumming through her veins. Her laugh was what he had missed most; knowing that she was now in the embrace of another and they were hearing the sweet melody. It brought about a feeling of apathy; the lack of being able to account for any one emotion. Instead, every beat of his heart belonged solely to her; only to stutter before coming to a full stop. He was no longer a live, but a shell of a being left aware only to wallow in the current displeasure he found inhabiting his bones.
To think that she was conscious of his current plight, but thought little of it, was even more devastating. He had bombarded her phone with text message after text message, letting her know each thought that raced through his mind and every emotion that wrenched his gut. Her replies, if any, had been curt. She cared little for the cost of his heartbreak, nor for how, thought she had once told him that his tears only managed to weaken her resolve, now strengthened it. He couldn't help but question every aspect of his life now, for if her love had been a falsehood he had failed to uncover until too late, he wondered what else could be such. How had he not seen the dull light in her eyes as she had been wrapped in his embrace, nor hear the uncertaintity in her tone when she spoke of their love. He wanted to place the blame on her, but he could only see where he was accountable for not recognizing the signs as they stood before him.
"I can change," he exclaimed for the thousandth time. "I can change." The words were much softer this time, holding no resolve. He was curious as to what it was that she did not love about him, and how he could work to shift these pieces of himself as if his personality was chalk full of puzzle pieces that failed to fit together. What she failed to see in him, he also failed to see in himself. HIs every thought revolved around what he could do to in order to take away his pain, even at the cost of his own life. For, he failed to see what worth his life held if not to stand by her side. What he knew now of love was it was a cruel mistress, one who found delight in absorbing every bit of happiness a man could hold and twisting it to fit a darker, more sinister purpose. What he now knew of love was to be the last he ever felt of it, for there was no light, only rain. What he now knew was the feeling of inadequacy.