Xavier.

“It’s bloody freezing out”, I say as I tug my scarf closer to my neck. The sun begins to fade behind the clouds and I pull my cell phone out to check the weather. img_133911 degrees celsius and dropping . Stepping onto the busy street, I pass by dozens of pedestrians at the four-way crosswalk. As fall is now upon us, I cannot help but let me thoughts cascade into that of autumn and examine the fluidity of adaptation and seasonal modification. Every year, I feel as if I enter a new stage of awareness…some sort of personal understanding, I.E. a break from a personal chaos. I find myself seeking familiarity and comfort, yet I end up finding bedlam.

This is when I met Xavier.

_______________________

INT – Dawn

Who is Xavier, more so, what is Xavier? Xavier is a supernatural entity that finds a way into even the strongest of minds. Acting upon repressed urges and hidden thoughts, a Xavier finds his way into the heart, and into the boudoir.

Sweat dripping down my cheek, I am jolted awake. Looking around my bedroom, my dog looks up at me with a concerned look. It seems that I jolted him. Glancing over at the clock on my dresser, I note the time: 5:15AM. I groan loudly and cover my face with my hands. Sliding my fingers down my cheeks, I think back to my dream. Finding myself alone with Xavier – The exhilaration, the threat, the overwhelming guilt. Picking up my phone, I scroll through my notifications – five missed texts, and 28 social posts. Tossing my phone aside, I attempt to re-enter a sleep cycle.

EXT. 7:30 – Coffee Shop

Meeting Xavier took me by surprise. Captivated with every word and mesmerized by his trance, I watched the way his lips moved as he spoke with a foreign tongue. Xavier knew he was attractive – not the type to act on it, but he sure did use his presence to his advantage. I make Xavier sound supernatural, but hell maybe he was. It is truly supernatural to have a man listen to every word and connect with you mentally as you speak. The smell of stout cologne clings to his neck and the scent catches my attention. It is true that familiarity parallels attraction? or is it the differences from the past that cause attraction with the present? Xavier was the opposite of anything I’ve ever encountered.

_______________________

Everyone meets a Xavier in their life, an idea, a persona. As we all know, my romantic track has never been clean…it basically has the cleanliness of a frat house, yet there are some people that are worth picking up the mess and trying for. I found myself dating others while thinking of him…searching for Xavier in dozens of people. Every thought, every moment, every jilted breath brought me back to Xavier.

I crave the feeling of his hands on my chest, his thumb hooked on my belt loop and his breath tangled with mine. How can I crave something I have never had? I’m like an alcoholic craving sobriety, the taste of a long forgotten feeling dancing upon my lips aching through every tempted vice.

I breathed him in through forest fires, for my lungs bled through a tethered heart made from stitches made to be pulled apart. Xavier was a flood that would not run, a dry spell that would not heat,  for Xavier was a person I lost yet someone I continued to find. I frantically reached into my jacket pocket to pull out a mangled pack of Marlboro Lights. Grabbing my poison, I lit and took a puff of a mangled cigarette. This sense of uncertainty does not come from an underdeveloped sense of awareness, but more so from an overcompensating heart.

And just in a blink of an eye he can fucks things up and I pour myself another glass of wine.

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