Everytime I see him lying there in the dark it makes my breath catch. I look at the magnificently formed back and arms, think of the power that lies there in slumber. I reach out to touch his hair and his skin, and my body feels as though it will incinerate from the rush of love, regret, awe, and fear that floods my entire being.
Three years of love interrupted and tried make me fear a lot. Right now they keep me up at night as I hang suspended in limbo, waiting for him to decide what he wants. I deserve it, too; this torture. Karma came back and bit me in the ass, now that I know what I want.
He ruined it for me. Well, he changed it, at least. I desire simple things, pleasures of life. But I can't desire anyone else. I can't feel that same rush of heat under my skin, that passionate, all-consuming burn in their eyes. These feelings are locked away with him. And that's the way I like it, until he isn't around anymore, and I feel like a discarded, broken toy.
Those eyes. Blue with shimmers of something akin to violets. When he opens his eyes while he kisses me and all I can feel, all I can see, is passion and love, its hard to even think that he might not want me, might not need me.
I need him. Like I need the air that I breathe and the water I drink. I need him there in the dark to lie my naked skin against. Need him to wrap his arm around me and kiss my neck, making me wish for Andy in the dark forever, and the ability not to feel that resounding sadness in the morning when he isn't there.
I fear his absence,
I desire his presence,
And i'll drown someday in those eyes.
I need him, whether or not he's in the dark.