Things are a bit weird. School is over and I don't really know what to do with my free time. I bought a coloring book and maybe I'll get Netflix. Just kidding, just got Netflix. WOOHOO!
I'm in a bit of a weird place. This is happening, it's really happening. I don't have a name for it, or a rhyme or reason, but it's there and it exists and it's...wonderful.
I used to have a place, this place on the edge of my pillow that was my place of comfort, it was my refuge from the world. The covers pulled up around by neck, that was the place where no thing or person could harm me.
For so long now, I've been taking care of me and not letting anyone in to help me deal with my pain. It's so scary to imagine someone else being there for me to lean on. I'm so afraid that I'll need them too much and I won't be able to give them enough in return.
There was once a bed, in a room with a window that moonlight shone through. There were sheets, and our bodies were wrapped up in them as we slept. That boy that lay there with me in that bed, I wanted him so badly. I wanted him so badly I would have gone to any lengths for him. I loved him so much I forgot to love myself. But I'm better now. That boy is a million miles away. I don't even know that girl anymore, that girl who loved him so much and was willing to give up so much for him. He is gone forever and so is she.
There's a new bed now, new sheets, in a new room. And there's a new spot. There is a different pair of arms to hold me, a pair of arms that feels so impossibly good. My ankles entwine with his and I bury my head in his chest and I forget about everything. I forget about everything but that bed and this boy who is holding me, keeping me warm and safe and sound. I forget there is a world outside that room, that there are cars and people and buildings and businesses beyond those four walls. I want to live in that moment forever.
I don't want to think about who I used to be in love with, or who he's in love with, or college or kids or graduating or when this will end, or if it will, or anything. For once in my life, all I want to think about is this very moment. I don't want to think about anything else. His skin pressed up against mine, my fingers through his hair, his hands touching parts of me I didn't ever want touched. But he is the one who pulled me through the fog. His hands belong in those long forbidden places. Wonderful sensations fill every part of my body, from head to my toes, and I think, this is how it should have been. This is what the first time is supposed to feel like.
This has no ending because it's just beginning. This is only the start. But I'm ready.
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