Homecoming

The sun was dipping down the horizon shattering into brilliant hues of red, as I looked over to you. You were staring back at me with such stark intensity that I audibly shivered. And just like that, my mind travelled back in time as a million images of you flashed in front of my eyes.

You were always in such a rush back then. Urgent kisses and hurried gestures. Your arms intertwining across my bare body marking their territory one inch at a time. Your breath and mine perfectly folding into one as we tried to have as much of each other as possible, as soon as possible. I was smitten and when you looked at me with such ferociousness, I could only surrender, breaking under you each time you touched me…

“How are you?”

  

I snapped back from my reverie, mumbling a breathless “Ok…” as I looked down from your unwavering gaze, unable to hold it together anymore.

“I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe you’re really here with me”

“I know.” you whispered a curt two-syllabled answer.

I could tell right then that our proximity affected you just as much as it affected me. I took your hand and interlaced your fingers with mine. I could finally accept to myself that I’d wanted to do that for the longest time. As your lips lightly brushed against my knuckles, I knew that no matter how much I lied to myself, in no lifetime could I ever resist you.

I’d never thought we’d ever find our way back to each other but now that we have, it sort of feels like a homecoming. I not only remember the outside of the house well, I also remember the colors of the walls inside and how they are painted the deepest shade of red. And even though I recall the built of it not being flawless, I remember the intricacies of the sketches across each wall and how much they affect me.

But most importantly, I remember that no house is perfect until you’ve made it a home. And meeting you again, feels like coming back home.

 Dear love,

I don’t know how long I’m staying

but I’m finally home.