Lived, Loved... Fell out of....

~DATING~

You tell me We kiss very honestly.

That I kiss like it's our last.

And You kiss to curb your craving.

Your craving for me.

Those two reasons are more similar than you may believe.

I kiss to hold on, to remember and feel.

You kiss to hold on, to hope that this feeling you remember is finally concurred, sufficed.

You tell me We kiss honestly, that in particular it's our goodbye kisses that reap this feeling the most.

I kiss you like it could be our last because it very well could be.

Hoping that I feel satisfied by the shared moment, to be okay with it being our last.

You kiss to get that same satisfaction. Just not from the same original thoughts.

What's funny is that by the end of the kiss We share, I'm left unsatisfied, craving you more than ever before…

Hoping to whatever forces there are to hope to that that kiss I made feel like our last isn't our last.

Because tomorrow is coming, and it very well could be.

~~IN LOVE~~

He'll never know how much I love him.

How full he makes my smile feel.

How much I crave his lips touch.

How hearing his voice makes me want to pay attention.

He looked at her like she was something bigger than life,

something intimidating but not terrifying.

Something he wasn't sure about, but something in the darks of their eyes clicked.

And they knew... they had always known.

The click led to a clammer, a loud panic that sounded like breathing dry air in. An inward whoosh that dissipated once it entered, finding its home inside you.

She found solace from these breaths by feeling his hair. Fingers weaving through a jungle of soft mailable fibers, that disapprovingly curved away from her fingertips.

Her other hand liked to relax upon his chest seemingly steady; it would sit there secretly feeling for where his inward whoosh would go and hide.

Sometimes their legs would coil together, frantically trying to hold on, or hold closer. Their bodies would follow this electric trend pulsating into shapes, that fit snug and comfortably with one another's.

His hands following her curves, finding their own pockets and places to rest sometimes curiously, running up and down a zone learning the way it felt, the texture, the way it was about her.

He'd rest his head sometimes, upon her chest. Breasts enveloping half his face, sounds of her insides blushing about would fill his ear.

And she...

She would smile, and breath.

Breath in dry air, let her lungs lash out, let her chest expand, expanding his literal headspace…making both their hearts race.

And then she'd run her fingers through his hair once more, feeling the hairs disgruntled pleas to be left alone, but she'd carry on because she loved to hear him moan.

Breath out a sound all its own--

filled with happy air.

Reminding her to acknowledge the wide spread smile across her face, the taste of his lips lingering upon the smile’s flesh.

A reminder she loved him, but the love was something still growing

Something she knew she'd maybe not always understand.

Something she'd always be able to visually track it in the darks of their eyes.

~~~OUT OF~~~

She tracked it alright. She tracked it even after it was 'over'.

She ended it, something you always swore would have to come down to her, ending it, never you.

Funny though, you were the one to hit every last button possible.

Cowardly, you knew exactly what it would take to end it all.

Yet, I don't believe you ever had what it took to end it yourself. Nor do I believe for a second that you anticipated me ending it when I did.

Seven years, never married despite the state instating us.

A perfect match, even at the end. Even After It?

We went on one last date, nearly a month after we were over. The couple was twenty year our senior and the night ended with them asking us for advice.

This was our last night of playing pretend.

Our last kiss.

I regret it.

Not the date.

But the kiss.

I think the date proved all that was said before. (Above) We were perfect. We did fit in a way we never would with anyone else. You did make my insides blush. We did kiss very honestly.

None of that was false.

But you, you were not true.

At the end perhaps even before that, you chose to be honest to yourself...

I stood by this.

Even if it meant I wasn't in your truth anymore. But I was.

Whoever you had decided to become, portray- wasn't true to you.

And I woke up and realized I wasn't waiting to become part of the false image you had chosen to identify with.

I loved you more than myself for too long to continue loving someone who wasn't you.

I learned I couldn't tolerate the pain & time it would take for you to find yourself again. Especially if I wouldn't fit that picture being myself, anymore.

Now I'm left haunted, nearly a year in the aftermath, unsure if we were meant to be a we, or if we were just a was.

I do know that I loved & still do love you.

Wishing you well as always... as I try and make sense of the madness and remember what it means to love me in all the same ways I've loved you.

~~~~~~

Hi, thanks for reading!! Above are three pieces, the first two both were posted 3 years ago when I first joined vocal, both too short to submit for this challenge but I felt were worthy based on content & emotion, written from a girl ripe on love. (Underlined Lines linking to the OG pieces.) Lately, my writing has been skewed to the raw reality based side of healing from a psychologically twisted relationship. Check out my pieces titled, Absolutely Zealous or 27 club to dive into the side of the aftermath of love. But following the challenge prompt I thought it could be interesting to stack three together, a beginning middle and end if you will on a Love Story. <3