I’ve always thought that lust was some kind of spell; a spell that can be easily broken, or if you are really really lucky, a spell that just fades away over time. When you first meet someone the way the look, act, smell, or even dance, conjures up feelings of attraction that if powerful enough develops into infatuation and therefore lust. But like any spell, lust is rose-tinted, a sheen of shiny newness, of goodness, of possibility, of hope. Lust is fur coat nae knickers, it hides flaws, hides those imperfections that will become niggles, deal breakers.

Once the spell is broken, it can’t be just magic’d back.

I’m addicted to the spell; i’m easily bewitched by something new, something shiny, something full of possibilities. You could call this spell temptation, you could call it very wrong; but if you have ever been touched by it, then you know at the time it feels oh so right. But, the fire burst, the magic is never to last. The spell for me is often broken so quickly, often so sharply that I am left empty, like my favourite toy has been taken away, like my raison d’etra is to be Tinkerbell, eternally adored, eternally alone in a bubble of sparkles which whilst pretty, is oh so empty.

I have yet to learn to live with the niggles, I have yet to learn that fading magic is better than moments of pure pure pleasure.

But I take it day by day.

Kx

P.s apologies, but there is something up with my blog right now.. almost of my sidebar has gone away, i am working to get this back!