I always need to be touching him. Even when he leans forward from the backseat where we lay cuddling for hours on end, just to change the song on the dashboard, I find my hands on the insides of his shirt on top of his ribcage. His skin is soft and warm, it’s impossible not to want to feel it all the time. He smells like something I couldn’t explain, cigarette breath covers his lips but his body is doused in a deep musky scent that I miss the minute we separate. His hair is soft, it looks greasy and messed because his hat always covers it but I could run my hands through it all day, I love how when I take my hands out of his hair to answer my phone he mumbles under his breath, “don’t stop”. When we kiss he bites my lower lip and it starts to throb until he kisses me again, he’s just like a drug. I love to trace circles around his lips and his eyes as he remains stretched over me, he has perfect eyes – even when they’re closed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with his face, there is absolutely nothing wrong with him.

I’ve had so many dreams of me and him just being together, holding hands in simple midnight air. Me, thinking of him, and him thinking of me; in perfect symphony. And then I’ll hear my phone ring and I’ll wake, to his voice of course. We’ll talk and he’ll turn on our song and go, “this one is all you and me.” I can’t go to bed after because I’ll be way too frivolous so I just close my eyes and wait to be with him again. It’s a sadistic, beautiful circle.

I’ve never felt so at ease before, so at peace with myself. Being with him talking about music or just life fills this void that I’ve left empty for so long. I never thought I’d go down this path with anyone else, after love had passed through me I really believed it was gone. I know I’m not in love yet, but I’m really, very close. It’s just something he does to me that keeps me on this uncomfortable tippy toe stance. I love being there though; it keeps me charged and waiting. Tossing and turning in my sleep, I’ve never been happier. I love every moment spent with him, connected to the hip. That’s what we are, and my god, I wouldn’t have it any other way.