You never know what you miss until you encounter it again. Out of sight, out of mind until you become blind. Lost in the murky world of monochrome colours and preconceived assumptions. Self-destruction in ways of giving up hope and slowly spiralling out of control. Paradox of inner tension and outer slacking. A body sick of living.
I thought we were running on borrowed time. I felt it in my skin and bones.
Time past with busyness and absence. My skin grew cold. Your touch unfamiliar, unnecessary. Nobody really needs love for life to go on, as long as you learn to eventually love yourself. Or perhaps, learn to breathe with something constantly missing in your chest. A tiny gap between what you need and what you want.
It is possible.
I thought I was growing out of our love. We have moved from one point to another, grown and changed. With recent thoughts and a sense of loneliness that initially went ignored in my heart, I was drifting away. From everyone. From you. From myself. It was a ghost haunting my subconscious and spreading all through my body.
But this night, darkness found us comfort and each other. Bodies loose and heart spilling. Silence ran in the world. Our breath, voices whispering in gentleness. Your bare chest on my back. Your rough hands on my stretched thighs. Our fingers intertwined and backs twisted. Eyes meeting and rediscovering what we had and still have.
Never could I have imagined how much I can miss our humanness.
We laid as still as possible. Just breathing in the dark as light started streaming through the open window. Faith, trust and vulnerability our only companions. Peacefulness in embrace. Intimacy long overdue.
Thank you for reminding me that we are better when together. I thought we were lost, but you had me in your arms the whole time.