Love,
When I walked into your life — I just knew. I knew I would ruin you — in the best possible way. Not in a way that will make you upset, more like in a way that will make you grateful.
There’s this something about me — nothing in my control — but something that hits like thunder, something that transcends and penetrates the souls, something that lingers long after I’m gone. To those who can see it, to those getting caught in my light — not like deers in headlights nor moths to a flame, more like lost sailors guided by my lighthouse in the foggy stormy night.
Maybe I should have warned you — that there’s no coming back — that there would be a before and an after me. Guess I didn’t, oh well! What can we do about it now?
It often starts with me being obsessed — before obsession extends to both sides. That’s how I knew. I knew that if this was reciprocated — as it was — then that was it, you’d be done for.
When I see you are connected to the messaging app that late in the night — I know. I know it’s way past your bedtime, I know there’s nobody you could nor would text at this hour — not even me. But I know you’re opening our chat — taking a good look at my baby face on those pictures you didn’t delete. I know you delete most of them — but never those of my face. I know you keep them preciously, as you told me.
When I remember you saying I live too far away — but then less than two weeks later, you drive hundreds of miles do make a quick round trip on a Friday, I know. I know you’re falling for me — I know you already did. Go with the flow, don’t hold back — any such tentative would be vain anyway.
When you greeted me today with a proper kiss in public like proper lovers — not just a peck on the cheek, I knew. I knew this was meant to last, to repeat itself — whenever we’d be given an occasion, or create one. I knew you cared more than you’ll ever dare saying or accepting even.
When the elevator doors closed on us and you couldn’t wait one more second before leaning and pushing on me, before kissing me with tongue and hunger, before grabbing and playing with my breast — I knew. I knew you were done for, my man — sorry (no, I’m not).
It’s ok — you’re safe with me, your heart is safe, your soul is safe. I mean no harm, I’m a healer.
When you felt the urge to mention once again that you’re not looking for a relationship, after I clarified my intentions and stance already — I knew. I knew you were only trying to convince yourself, I knew you were pretending I’m the one at risk of falling in love — when reality is the other way around. I know, I know. We both do.
It’s not like you’re the one who shouted in excitement at our friend that you were in love after seeing my picture for the first time, months ago, before anything happened, before seeing me in the flesh — and gushed about how “I have everything”. Also it’s not like you told me to my face today, this time, that “I have everything” — that it’s not just about the sex. Also not like you missed a work day and drove twice the time we got to spend together — just so this time could be spent together.
Or is it? Either way, don’t you worry — we’ll be fine, everything is going to be alright. Enjoy the ride while it lasts, and let the path leads us where it needs to.
Sweet pea, honey bunny — you’re the bomb, and thanks again. For everything you do, both knowingly and unknowingly. You’re a healer too, you know? You feel so good, in so many ways. You feel like peace — which I haven’t had in a long time. If ever?
Oh, and yeah, I knew. I knew when you pulled me to you to spoon me after our nap, when your hand reached for my breast, when I placed my hand on top of yours for lack of a better spot — and all of the sudden your attention was not on my breast anymore, but on my hand. In another one of our extremely subtle yet unmistakable tiny moments — our fingers intertwined discreetly, as to say all the things we cannot speak out loud.
Me too, man, me too. Yes, I know, I can feel it.
Love you — in many ways. Don’t fret, I’m not in love with you — I just love you. Iykyk.
Until next time, boo — be dreaming of your hands all over me. And if I lack imagination, I can always check the mirror to see your hand print on my butt cheek.
🐾