We had the most perfect day, even though it was just any other day. We got back to your place in the evening, we sat in our pyjamas and drank wine, it was like ‘this is what we do.’
I was surprised when we climbed into bed together. I was overly aware that I’d stripped my face of all my make-up and that it was the first time you’d be seeing me without it. I turned the light off swiftly.
I lay there. I could hear you breathing quietly, my head felt fuzzy. Our elbows were touching. I was so aware of the feeling of your skin against mine. I slipped my hand into yours, I didn’t know if this was okay, but I needed you to know that I liked you sexually, romantically, infinitely. You held my hand and then you lightly stroked my fingers. We lay there for some time. I changed my position, you took me in your arms and enclosed me into your body. We couldn’t have gotten much closer. I could hear your heart beating, it was quick, and I liked it, because it made me think that you were nervous. I was nervous too. Our faces were so close, or noses grazed repeatedly. We could have kissed at any moment, but we didn’t.
I wanted you to kiss me so badly; I am desperate to know what it’s like. Then at that same I didn’t want you to kiss me, because then it would be over. You stroked my back softly, working your way down to my hips and back up to stoke my neck. It was innocent but I felt every single touch like a shock, my heart slammed against my ribcage. This seemed to last forever until we eventually fell asleep. I woke in the morning and you were close beside me, wide-awake. I felt like I never wanted things to be any other way than this. I also felt like this was a ridiculous thing to feel. I was overwhelmed with a sense of dread; thinking about getting out of bed to get ready for the day…
…I felt a deep sadness on the train home, I was going back to my regular life, which was fine two days prior, but now nothing about it seemed right. I wondered when I would see you again. I hoped that you were wondering too.