eight days

The closer we seem to get, the more I seem to miss you.
You haven't even left yet and I find myself missing you.

I've written pages and pages on these last couple of weeks.
It's amazing how it took us a year to get to where we are.
I will never forget this summer.
You restored my hope in relationships.

I am reminded of how much I like you everytime we have to part from another event.
I like holding hands in public but I also like the way we hug in private.
Last night, you told me how you think of me every night and how you want me.
Life is rather funny that way.
It makes you feel so selfish and greedy because there are certain things you want so badly but you may never have.

I adore the way you put your arms around my neck so that I can wrap my arms around your waist.
I love the way you will run your fingers through my hair.
I love how you kiss my forehead.

I love so many things about you.
It makes me so certain that this is more than just a silly crush.

When you've got a good thing:

It touched my heart deeply when I found out that he had texted her to let her know his concern for me.
But knowing that he's done that is bittersweet.

Texts at night are new.
Telling me he is in bed and sleepy is--again--adorable.

He's the closest I've ever met to perfect.

(I apologize for the recent sappy posts. They are memories in the making which I may not be able to forget.)

Morning kisses

Back from the cottage.

His kisses were soft and gentle; clean and dry.
His hands roamed in all the right places, leaving a tingling sensation across my skin.

So different from the last.
The sexual tension between us was strong and even more passionate.
We were slow, trying to remember every curve.
In that moment, I knew I liked him.

We were shy, lying side by side.
taking each minute to fight off the attraction.
But he tested the waters a few times and I gave him all the right answers.
That was how it began.

It was in that moment I remembered that he was leaving.
Suddenly, I knew it was wrong.
We couldn't--and didn't--continue.

Being sensible was difficult.
But he agreed; it would be unfair for both of us.

The night was stretched out in silence.

Morning arrived with gray clouds.
I didn't realize how happy I would be to wake up with him beside me.

He breathed out heavily and once in a while, his fingers twitched.
It was undeniably cute.
Regret washed over me as I watched him sleep soundly next to me.
I like him too much to start anything.

He put his arms around me.
HIs fingers played a symphony along my spine.
We didn't say a word to each other as we laid there in bed.

And then there was that movie moment.
He rolled over me and kissed me ever so gently.
Pause.
Lifted my head up and held my head in his hands.

Never mind the morning breath because in that moment, he made me feel so loved.
No matter what I look like, he'll like me for who I am: that's how I felt during that morning kiss.

I rolled onto my back and he rested his chin on my stomach.
He stared right into my eyes.
He reminded me of a dog (and I'm a sucker for dogs).

Nothing's awkward but there are burning questions.
Since the beginning of the summer, the primary question from many has been whether I like him still and I think I have my answer.

I despise unhappy endings so much.