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.
I don’t know how long I’m staying
but I’m finally home.
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