Enough

When you're kissing, when you're in the moment, there's a point where you don't even wanna kiss, you just wanna feel it. That's what it feels like when his lips are on mine. They're soft and plump. His nose is made for me to nuzzle. His smooth cheeks are mine to tickle with my nose and fingers. Kissing him is like tasting the sweetest thing on earth. It gives me a feeling in the lowest part of my abdomen that I can't quite explain. I sigh constantly. The way his hands feel on my skin, the way I can't catch my breath when he's kissing my neck, when his teeth are grazing my breasts, when I'm straddling him and he's gripping my hips...it's almost too much. And yet it is never, it will never be, enough.

Paralyzing

You want to know what it feels like when you want to tell someone you love them, but you're unsure?
It feels like keeping a deadly fucking secret that could end the world. It's paralyzing. Your fingers wanna type it and your lips wanna say it. And then your head screams that it's been however long, and that its completely crazy. Oh, but when you say it... That feeling is so incredible. It's beautiful feeling that person's breath on your ear, whispering to you that they love you. They're there. They're staying and they're gonna love you for as long as possible. When he said it to me, when I heard his voice, and I saw his lips move, and I looked at his eyes, I knew. I don't care how long it's been.
Yet still, there are so many more feelings. I feel scared to give myself again. I feel like since we're in deep early, we could be out early. But our story is fast. Our love is new. We're good with each other. I smile with him, I laugh with him, I trust him more everyday. We don't stop talking unless we're asleep. He is my favorite everything. Ever since I started talking to him, learning him, I've been falling for him. I wonder all the time how he thinks I'm so great? I wonder constantly why he wants me?
But he is my love. His happiness is my happiness. His eyes and lips and nose are my favorite parts. His skin, his whole body, his mind, they are mine to explore. He is my love. He is my perfect.

Struggle

I lived my life by the daily affirmation that it was my job to make you happy because you made me happy. I lived my life in a daily struggle, and I never saw it. Had I looked at our relationship with the mindset of an outsider, I would have seen it. I would have seen that struggle. The struggle between who I was trying to be for you, and who I desperately wanted to be for myself. I was so consumed by who I "should" be. Every criticism, every little nitpick, everything really sunk into me. And because I loved you how you were, I strove to make myself the person you could really love, and not the one you loved because of the confidence you had in yourself to mold me. When I think back to the first time you told me you loved me, I realize that was the time when I began to struggle.

We were in my bedroom, laying in the light of the sunset. I will never forget the day because I was laying there with you, warm from your touch as well as the orange light. I can remember all the details. I was barely dressed, wearing a tank top and flimsy silk pajama shorts, and as a result of our rolling around on the sheets, you had on your undershirt and boxers. We were side by side, facing one another. You were looking into me. I was staring at your lips. I touched them with one finger, barely. I moved my face into yours, sighing, kissing you just barely. Your arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close. I felt the outline of your body on my own. I wanted more than we had ever shared before. So did you.
"Rhian, I, I love you." you whispered. I stopped breathing.
"Say something Rhi. I mean it, I really do, I love you."
"I love you too Bradley." I said, taking a leap.
And then I was falling.
You smiled, you ran your hand through my hair and over my ear and you kissed me. It felt like no kiss we'd ever shared before. I didn't feel it then, but it was a sign that everything was going to change. That evening, in that sunset, you saw all of me, and I saw all of you. You moved inside of me, you changed me, you loved me and showed me things. We learned what making love meant.
That was the only time you loved me. The first and last time you would love me. Every other time that you touched my body, kissed my skin and whispered my name, it was simply your wish that tomorrow when we woke up, I would be less of the girl that had, unknowingly to me, escaped the night before.