Will I ever find someone who can touch my heart the way you did?
Or will I stick to the safe side and bury my longings in that part I keep so well hid?
Will there ever be someone else who knows exactly how to touch me, who with eyes and hands alone is capable of making me feel not only desired but absolutely perfect? Whose touch takes away even the last of my doubts of physical imperfection.
You know my ugliest face, my darkest sides, my deepest shell and you forced me to come out. You forced me to speak the truth, when I wanted to run. You forced me to look you in the eyes when I told you I didn’t see a future in us. You always knew when I thought I’d get away with only telling half the truth. You’d pin me to the wall with those big brown gentle eyes and you’d look straight down deep into my soul and forced me to be fair to you, to tell you what’s hidden in those far-away dark corners.
By pushing me to my limits and beyond you discovered sides of me no one else had known before. By forcing me to confront my weakest traits you made me stronger and capable of loving deeper than I would have thought possible.
I miss your touch, your bear hugs before parting ways; I miss your kiss that was the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. I miss waking up, annoyed by the heat because you needed to hold me close in your sleep. I miss your random “I love you”s in the middle of a meal. I miss the implicitness and ease with which you just picked me up and wrapped me in a warm hug, pouring your kisses like liquid honey.
I can’t imagine not knowing you anymore.
I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.
It physically pains me to imagine not being in touch with you anymore.