I’ve known you for 114000 minutes.

In this time you’ve managed to find out EVERYTHING there is to know about me.

I’ve let you in. You’ve seen my core. You know my innermost thoughts. You listened to my darkest, most personal and guilty secrets.

You’ve seen me naked in more ways than one.

And still you’re not running.

And every single time you hold me I feel (for the first time in my life) that you are holding ME. That, knowing everything, you are there by choice and not some weird coincidence or power-trip or self-deceit or fake feelings or pure loneliness. You make me feel like your position in space and time is a consious choice.

Your hands locked around me, your lips just brushing mine, my spine tingling, our whispering flooding my hearing “…put your hands on my face…” singing in each others mouths you immerse me in love.

A bit later, you hold me again. Our bodies glisten; the smell of the room and your breath on my ear make the wetness between my thighs shiver. There’s nothing I can’t do for you.

Then again, as easy as you make me pant and my heart rush you suddenly pull the weight off the world and you let me be in your arms. Just be. Myself. Beside you. And I melt. Everything melts. My heart beats slow and steady, your pulse and breath are the only sounds inside my head as I rest against your chest, your body becoming the perfect resonator.

You’re in me and I feel your pulse and I listen to your breath and your gasps and I feel your touch and I love you all that time. And you love me all that time. And it’s not just a dirty word anymore. It’s become real so suddenly.

I wouldn’t have imagined… how could I?

It’s not safety. It’s not lust. It’s nothing I know. Nothing I’ve felt.

You peel my inner onion of walls without shedding a tear.

Thank you.