We laid naked together under the covers of your bed. Our legs intertwine. I can feel your heart beat thump against your ribcage beneath my cheek. I can see it moving the thin chain of the necklace I gave you around your neck. I can’t help loving the way your heart reacts whenever I move this way or that.
These are my favorite types of afternoons. They are my favorite mornings and my favorite evenings, too. When we don’t need to speak (though I do quite like it when we do speak.) When our bodies don’t need to press fervently together, seeking physical bliss. When your hand holds my hip and I can pet your skin and hear your breath hitch in your throat, even in your half-asleep state.
I wondered if you know how lost I would be without you. I wondered if you know that you are the only person in the world who has told me that I am not broken, and has loved me and found me perfect though I am so clearly not. I wondered - I always wonder - if you know that I feel the same way about you. That I love every bit of you. That I wish I could scream this from the roof-tops. That I wish I could take a megaphone and stand in the most crowded place in town and tell the world how wonderful you are, how brilliant, how compassionate, how funny, how adorable, how loving you are, and how stupid they are for not noticing it (and for how thankful I am that they didn’t, because I think if they had, you would not be mine.)
I propped myself up on my elbow, brushing your bangs away from your sleeping eyes. I kissed your forehead, pet your cheek. You are so perfect to me. You will always be so perfect to me, even when we are old and gray and we don’t quite work right anymore. Your eyes fluttered open, and we smiled. You pulled me close. And just like every second before that, I loved you even more.