As I lay in his arms and he quietly speaks sweet things to me – “you’re beautiful” – “you make me happy” – “my Love” – I wonder if he’s ever said those words to another. If perhaps there is a different woman out there who has been on the receiving end of his all-encompassing love and passion. Am I really so special to him? Or does he feel this big with every one that he loves?
Why does he love me? I am ordinary. I’m not beautiful. I’m no smarter than others. I’m moody. I’m selfish. I get jealous. And yet, he does love me. He loves me deeply and truly. His energy, my energy. Together, we pass it back and forth, letting our combined energies build and crescendo. The lies and the darkness fall away until only truth remains. When we are together everything else fades away and I feel like a real person again.
It is during these moments, these precious hours, when the world actually seems at peace. When everything feels right, good and whole. At night. In his arms.
And then when those long nights and days arrive when I am alone and he’s not beside me, well, those are the times when the world seems a big, desolate, empty and scary place to be. Those are the hours when I lay there, depressed and sad, and darkness creeps in to overtake my mind.
I lay here remembering: his rough voice, his beautiful words, his soft skin, his virile scent, his rugged hands and strong arms, the cadence of his breathing. “I love you.” My breath hitches. “My Love.” Tears flow. “You make me so happy.” god, I miss him so much. “You’re beautiful.” Please… please don’t leave again.
Inside, I know it’s not right of me to ask him to stay. But when he’s gone I’m a husk. Barely surviving. He completes me. I have bound myself to him and he has bound his spirit to mine. Where he goes, my heart goes with him. The time we have together passes in a moment; the time apart drags on for years.
I don’t ask him aloud to stay. I can’t put that on him and make him feel guilty. I know he sees the pleading in my eyes. I know the days apart hurt him like they hurt me. I want to cling to him, beg him to stay. Please don’t leave me again! You’re my very breath. But I don’t. Each time he leaves, it gets harder for me to let him go. I wonder how long I can keep doing this.
tara caribou | ©2017
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