You are my definition of perfection: the way you look at me sends shivers down my spine. The thought of kissing you does so much worse.
I wish you were beside me. I have always loved the rain – but never the thunder and lightning that accompany it. I want a pair of arms around my waist; a faint breath against my neck; a racing heartbeat that matches mine. I want to be reminded that everything is okay. That I am safe. That this is real.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” Three words that my body cannot handle. Tell me again. Do not stop – even if I ask you to. Any combination of words would sound just as lovely, if they were to leave your lips.
Your lips. That’s all I can think about at this moment. Your lips against mine; nothing exists but us. Immersed in a moment we’ve both dreamed of for too long. Consumed in the desire that has built itself up to this point. Kiss me – I promise to kiss you back.
I want to crawl inside your heart. Make a home for myself amongst the pieces of girls who left you behind. Burrow myself deep beneath the secrets you hold close. I want to belong to you.
I’m thinking about your hands now: how it feels to thread my fingers through yours, kiss your knuckles until they stop bleeding. You don’t need to fight anymore. The battle is over. You are in control of your feelings. And we are happy.
When were you last happy, my dear? I don’t remember ever being this content. And though I may be sad about the way I look, or how well I may or may not do in our upcoming exams – it doesn’t matter. I am so, so happy; it’s all because of you.
My parents tell me I have an answer for everything; that I don’t know how to stay quiet, and ignore what doesn’t involve me. You are the only person who is able to render me speechless, and I don’t know how you do it – but my mind blanks, my voice is engulfed by thoughts of you, the words struggle to break free. I can’t help what you do to me.
The number 9 is amongst my least favourite, but I have lost my train of thought. Because you are you. And you are exactly what I didn’t know I was missing until I found you – that lost puzzle piece hidden between wooden floorboards as a child; that letter from a loved one that was shoved in amidst the birthday cards and broken dreams; that box with your favourite bracelet, which you tried so desperately to replace.
I’m not making sense, and this is how I know you’ve got me."