Etched in my bones

I like to flirt. Meet new people. It’s a rush, exploring the inner workings of a person.

Pushing them, finding out what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes

them cry.

I think I will love to do this for the rest of my life. But all of it does not compare to the

sweetness of being in love.

To have someone that regardless of how many others come into your life and excite you,

can still make your heart beat so fast you forget to breathe, no matter how many years

come and go.

I have had it only once in my life, and now it is lost to me. But as despairing as it is to

know that she is not in my life anymore, there is a part of her that will never leave me.

See, loving someone else is incredible, but to be loved by that person, that is something

else entirely.  Being loved by another, and knowing that you are loved in every part of your

being, is achingly beautiful and beyond compare.

Even though I was not right for her in the end, I know that she loved me. Knowing that

someone else could know me as I am and find something to love and sacrifice for

brings a sense of wholeness and wonder to my life that I am so grateful to have felt.

Even though she is gone, I can feel the taste of her skin on my tongue, the warmth of her

body as she pressed herself into me, molding against me, trying to have as little

separation as possible. I remember her laughter, her smile, and all the moments

where she let me see her be vulnerable, whether in sadness or joy.

She is etched into my bones, and I would want it no other way.

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