Such an unexpected cacophony of emotions hits like a silent train. I’ve stood as close before. We’ve exchanged as many words. I’ve had two weeks to stare, admire, consider, dream.
The disappointment at feeling little upon your return was deadening. Perhaps it was a good thing I was so cautious, I thought. Maybe I was right to put you off, to continually acknowledge the distance, to refuse to speak in terms of love during those two years. After all, You didn’t blow my mind or weaken my knees or flutter my senses as we greeted with the same hug and kiss that once bade us goodbye.
Until now. Like a crushing boulder through glass, you suddenly mean everything. Your position on my chair, by my computer is too far away. Your thoughts plague me as do the lack of words. I have to know what’s in there. I have to know how to heal you.
Uncharacteristically bold is my decision to seat myself on your lap. You discuss the goings on of my damaged laptop but I want hear the words behind the words. The mysteries that creep just behind the deep brown of your eyes but never make their way to those lips.
You wrap your strong arms around me, pulling me close. Your body is warm, your face prickly tickle, and your presence a shield of safety. Those long, strong fingers stroke the keys with confidence and precision and I don’t fight my urge to stare. I want those fingers in mine. I want to touch them, run them against my lips, feel them tangled up in mine.
I lay my head upon your shoulder, your neck just inches from my kiss. The deep musky smell of your skin a cloud of music to the senses. At last, you hook your fingers in mine and, with a deep release of breath, you let me fall into you.
For the first time, we are in the same place. For the first time, we are as close as we always dreamed.
For the first time, I am in love.