I mustn't be afraid.  

I mustn't be afraid.

The death of the first tracker led to a call in Adam's dreams which brought him confused to me one night in the summer.  The way we all know without knowing, some repetition of our history.  He came to my room at night, the way all boys do.  He was 19, and I was 15. He spent 5 days at my house while the weather warmed up, and no one noticed at all.  He ran his fingers down the spines of my fairy tale books and told me, his voice quiet and condescending, that he believed their use is the same as any religion.

We spent most of those days in my basement, or my bedroom.  His clothes wore soft from how long he wore them, and how often we removed them, peeled from his skin.  He told me about his favorite restaurant in New York.  He said more than once he didn't know why he was there.  I told him about my dreams and nightmares.  And in some bewitchment of curse or karma, he vanished from me.  

The boy I lost my virginity to wondered why I didn't bleed.  

In the end, I sought out boys who felt the same way Adam did.  I looked hard for something of a dragon beneath it all.  An idea that lives beneath the breath of something I couldn't name.  And I knew I needed to stay with them because I knew I had a boyfriend.  

Some...other half.  A missing piece more specific than the general heartache for companionship.  I could DESCRIBE the man, and the feel of his hands, and his lidded eyes that betrayed every sarcasm his heart could hold.  

I wouldn't see him again, or remember us until the winter.  But vaguely, I kept him with me, constant as a song in my head, and distant as the place you return to dreaming.