Bliss

He makes me feel like a queen, like I am his prize, you know? He says things like, "your skin is so supple," or "your lips are so soft," and "we fit perfectly together."

So I melt; I become his.

He caresses my supple skin, peppers his kisses on my soft lips, trailing his fingers up and down my spine, whispering sweet nothings.Then we come together; I begin sinking into that place again...That place where I get lost, and all I see is him.

When I emerge, his senses surround me. The way he tastes resonates on my tongue, my core convulses in the wake of his fingers, the swell of my lips & the handprints in my hips leave me drowning in insatiable hunger. His aura envelopes me, infiltrating my spirit; I am becoming one with this man…Except I can’t find myself.

So are we becoming one…or is he consuming me?

He does this.

He, somehow, becomes the bridge between my old self and the woman I become when I am with him. When our bodies collide, they tell stories of old lovers; the past crashes into the present, and the present pushes the future just a little further. I lose my breath, unless, of course, I'm breathing him in.

He strips me of my sense of self, making me question who, exactly, it is that I am becoming or if am becoming someone new at all...Is this what he wants?

This encompassing feeling takes me to places I do not recognize, yet I embrace those places. I welcome the unfamiliarity. This feeling almost always leads to a question that often remains unanswered: was unfamiliarity always synonymous with doom?

Whatever the answer may be, it’s okay. Because I’m falling. I am falling in love…Right?

This...this is me falling, because I am most certainly not rising into myself. I am simply falling into him. Is this what it is supposed to feel like? In him, I do not see myself. I see him. Nothing more, nothing less. Then there are these bright lights that are only bright because they're surrounded by darkness. His darkness. If I brought light into this journey...if I sprinkled a little bit of me into his world, would his lights seem so bright.

Or were they always my light?

Was it me, bringing light into his life all along?

Fuck.

When dawn peaks through the curtains, and the moon just barely graces the sun's presence, it becomes evident that the present is no longer on pause, and the future beckons me. The future actually makes me plea bargains. In fact, she often says, "If you come with me, you will not have to negotiate with the past, or try to drag the present into the future. You will have everything when you need it."

"How?" I ask. Every time, I ask her how she knows this.

"I cannot tell you that."

"Why?" Tears stain my cheeks; I always assume she just wants me to trust her. But that is incredibly difficult. I need something more concrete.

She smiles kindly, "You need to trust yourself," she proclaims. Well fuck, that's even more difficult.

How am I supposed to do this alone? This is absolutely ridiculous. I shake my head.

My future tilts her head at me, admonishing me, “I’m not sure how you expect to get anywhere, thinking that someone else is supposed to get you there.”

My head jerks back, and my mouth opens to deny her, but I am met with the echoes of truth.

I stare back at my reflection as she now dares me to move on. And I wipe my cheeks.

"Don't you dare look back," she demands.