Chronicles of a Poly-amorous Lesbian

Temptation is hard to resist. The temptation of feeling her lips against mine, of tasting her lips.

I skirt around the want every night I walk her to her room before bed. The kids will sometimes make their way into her bed. She has a hard time carrying them (she isn't very tall) and so I or M will transport them back to their own beds...but every night that I walk her upstairs, and once the kid(s) are back under their own covers...we hug long and hard. Our arms wrapped around each other...there's a longing there from the moment we embrace until the door is shut behind me...

It's something greater than sex...than lust...a longing for lost time...for things that could have been...for things that might be...for things that she's too afraid of right now to take. Things...all the things...

I want things she's not completely ready to give me. Things I won't ask for. I have no right to ask for anything. This is on her timeline, not mine.

But the want is always there. The want to hold her. The want to feel her in my arms; the solidity of her body safely against mine.

But I take pleasure in the times I do get to hold her. When she comes willingly into my arms and holds me close against her.

I revel in the moments when I make her laugh, or smile. In the times when we're sitting on the bed, watching something or doing whatever...and I get her attention and I whisper I love you.

The smile that comes across her face...the way she lights up with a slight blush to her beautiful face...the way she says she loves me, too...elates me.

There are times I walk up behind her, always making sure she knows I'm there...and hug her, my arms wrapping around her chest with the slightest squeeze. In these moments she smiles, the slightest upturn of her lips, her green eyes slipping closed, and she leans into me.

I feel her relax against me, her head resting back against my shoulder.

She told me once that she was afraid of intimacy.

She hasn't had too much experience with gentle hands and loving moments.

Yet, she craves it. The proverbial dog that's been kicked too many times, yet with its tail between its legs, attempts at receiving the love they are denied.

Since she told me this, I have made it a point to show her the intimacy she craved. To show her that intimacy was more than sex (that she really didn't want).

At first she would tense when I would hug her, especially if I came from behind her. Regardless if she knew I was there. She would eventually relax, though not all the way.

Not though, she just relaxes against me, automatically, her arms coming up to grip mine. Her head lulls to the side, resting lightly against my jawline and I can feel her smiling.

I am not in a rush for sex. It's not what's on my mind when it comes to her. That particular thing is far down the line for the three of us. My goal is to allow her to get to know me all over again...for me to get to know her all over again.

We are far different people than our eleven-year-old selves. With greater scars and harsher lessons to remember.

My her soul calls out to me. My soul calls out to her. And I knew even then, as a child, that we would reunite one day.

Now that chapter has come full circle...something I've waited over twenty years to happen...and now that it has...I will stop at nothing to keep her in my life.

Those small moments when she smiles at me...make my heart flutter and I've found that I anticipate those moments constantly. And I look forward to where our paths will lead the five of us on this journey of family, love, and healing.