In the cover of evening.

Last night we didn't have sex. He didn't fuck me. I didn't fuck him.
It was something else entirely. It was slow and quiet and meaningful.
And for the first time in a long time I looked him in the eyes and he
didn't let go of my gaze, not once. He stared back and we looked at
each other on the inside. It was intensely emotional but also
peaceful. Everything became okay. He didn't have to say those three
silly words and neither did I. We both knew it, we both felt it.

He slid beside me and put his arm underneath my head. He pushed aside
the twisted tangles of hair that hung in my face and just stared into
my eyes. His look was not a searching one, but a reassuring one. His
fingers trailed lightly up and down every inch of my skin. I looked
away. This was too much. I closed my eyes tight to put a barrier
between these very real tears and the outside air. I wonder if he
knew. Desperate to plug this emotional overflow I tried to think of
something else, anything else but I couldn't. I managed to slip away
silently to the bathroom. I'm not sure how long I stood in that little
dark room.

When I came back, he was asleep. I crawled back into bed and laid down
on my stomach beside him. He placed his hand on the small of my back
and I wasn't sure if it were like he was staking a claim or just in
need of a physical connection.

I didn't dream but I slept deep and hard with the cold wind lapping at
my naked back and his warm breath on my neck.

He woke me in the dark morning without saying a word. But this time
was different. It was passionate and purposeful, maybe perfunctory. I
almost wish we had left it at last night. Those were the feelings I
wanted close to me throughout the day, not the afterthoughts of
animalistic lust. Which is fine, I shouldn't complain, but it's not
the same.

He kissed me goodbye in the morning like nothing had happened. Like
this wasn't any different. And maybe it wasn't, maybe it had been like
this all along but I was just too afraid to see it. Much too afraid of
loving someone.