but the map was burned, and I've taken a wrong turn

The rope that's wrapped around me
Is cutting through my skin
And the doubts that have surrounded me
Are finding their way in
I keep it close to me
Like a holy man prays
In my desperate hour
It's better that way

Months ago, this would have been, a moonless night in a small town, and I held him for hours on the second story, murmuring against the fall of his hair. He said many things that night, but one thing he said, chief among everything else he said, has stuck with me, ringing inside, a small silver sound through all my days and nights.

I did not wish to assume he meant me, but later still, that night, he whispered in my ear that yes, he meant me. And so the journey began.

So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be such a very good friend
Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been

Each step we've taken together since then, each moment we've spent, it's all been arrowed towards that goal, more or less. Conversations to reinforce trust; time spent together, learning what we like, what we don't; nights of kissing, nights of holding, nights of exploring. Slow step by slow step, inexorable, water flowing over glistening river rocks, aiming for the cliff's edge and the joy of falling.

Angels never came down
There's no one here they want to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall...

I knew he liked me. I knew he wanted me. These were good things as I liked him, I wanted him too. And the months of slow touching, coming to understand each other, communicating on levels beyond our bodies, learning, knowing...it was all intended to get us to one particular place, and that place together.

I've crept into your temple
I have slept upon your pew
I've dreamed of the divinity
Inside and out of you
I want it more than truth
I can taste it on my breath
I would give my life just for a little death

And I have dreamed of him, I have gone to my bed, hands pressed in places that want for him, I have hummed at his touch and thrilled at his words. I have done my best not to push, not to demand, to stand and smile and let him move at his own pace. I have done my best to be patient, patient until even the concept feels meaningless, this endless waiting. But I have done this, for him. I have held back my will and my desire and all that lovely wanting, waiting for him.

So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be just a very good friend
I will not look upon your face
I will not touch upon your grace
Your ecclesiastic skin...

Tonight, he asks me for advice on picking out furniture, because he's just met this lass, and wishes to have sex with her.

....

And most of my mind is shrieking, at what feels like injurious injustice, to have this gift he offered to me torn away and presented to another, who will hold it with no understanding and less reverence, and may even forget his name a week after having this throwaway experience, and...

...I can find no way to make him understand. And find, in myself, a hard little knot that does not even wish to, if he cannot simply look at me and realize I am wroth with him for this.

I'll come by and see you again
I'll have to be a very good friend
If I whisper they will know
I'll just turn around and go
You will never know my sin



I just wish I had a way to let him know...

(Song is Melissa Etheridge's "Angels Would Fall".)