I am lying in my bed, looking at the ceiling. Shadows are dancing, encouraged by the wind that is picking up outside. The heat is almost unbearable, even at midnight. The breeze that finds its way inside my bedroom caresses my naked skin. I can’t even fathom the thought of wearing any clothes right now. A nervous kind of energy keeps me awake. My mind is tired, and my body too, but my heart races, and my thoughts keep straying back to you. I miss you; that much is true. After a couple of very intimate and intense weeks, the unlabeled thing we have seems to cool off. And I don’t like that feeling. It’s an old feeling, of course. And it is probably all in my head. As I grow older, attachment issues become real and realer. The fear of rejection or abandonment is almost crippling. Almost. You know, for a moment, I was very sure of you and your love for me. We were together every waking minute that wasn’t spent with work for either of us. We got to know each other; you got to know me. I allowed myself to be just me. Maybe that adds to my insecurities.
Oh, the heat. The heat is a challenge tonight. Time is ticking away, but I still miss you. The distance between us, is it growing because we are comfortable with each other and the space the other takes up in our life, or is it growing because the closeness between us is becoming too much? I am overthinking. I wish I weren’t. I wish I could just grab my phone and send a text. But I can’t, or I won’t, out of fear of becoming someone suffocating. I start counting. It always grounds me in moments like this. Almost like a meditation. It helps my mind to become blank.
The mattress dips under a stranger’s weight, and I am startled. My heart almost jumps out of my chest, and I feel adrenaline flood my body. My breath comes in ragged pants. I must have dozed off or zoned out. I did not notice the door being opened. I am glad I gave you a set of keys. And I am glad you used them to let yourself in.
It is well past midnight now. I smell the soothing scent that is coming off your body. And I can feel your heat. You are naked too. It’s too hot to wear clothes, I think again. You seem to agree with that. You put your head on my chest. I feel the rough stubble of your growing beard on my sensitive skin. It does something to me. I kiss your hair and comb it with my fingers. You moan lazily. I try to remember my earlier thoughts and emotions, but they are old and unimportant right now. It was something about distance and growing apart. Silly me. I must stop these self-sabotaging thoughts from overtaking my sanity.
You put your hand on my hip, and it feels right. Your heat and mine mingling, turning into something unique. Something that only we can create. It’s a fascinating thought that every movement we share and every breath and every word and every touch, every smell and every laugh, and every tear, and simply everything we share is unique. We can repeat words and recreate reasons to cry or to laugh, or to fight, but it will never be the same as the original instance.
Your arm grows heavy on my stomach, pinning me into this position. You are about to fall asleep, and I noticed we did not really talk. You came home into my arms, and you feel safe enough to let go and drop your guard. We discussed this before, the magic of feeling safe and protected with each other, the magic of easing the nervousness and unrest we both feel all too often. I smile and try to take a deep breath. Your head on my chest is heavy. And I can feel the sweat turning into something sticky between us. I never liked that with another man in my life, and I hated it when someone breathed on me, but with you, it doesn’t bother me. I love everything about you. My mind wanders again, and I start counting again. I need to sleep soon. I kiss your hair again, careful not to disrupt this peaceful moment. I love you so much; it is almost scary.
I scold myself and tell myself that this is not the moment for negative thoughts. One…two…three…four…five…six… The shadows are still dancing on the ceiling. A serene moment. I breathe in again. You, your scent fills me, and I smile. My hand keeps caressing your back lazily. Seven…eight…nine…ten… I slip away.
(23minutes, 802 words)