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THE TONES AND LILT
You, Everyday I find it harder, some more than others, to cope with the fact that someone who I once confided everything in, who knew every crevice of my body, what makes me tick, what soothes me, is a stranger now, can not know how my new room looks, how my day was, what I dream about, aspire to. My favorite moments with you were when we woke up. You would subconsciously pull me closer to you, the coolness of your skin contrasting the natural warmth of mine, and exhale soft breaths on my neck and collarbone. Sometimes, you'd wake me by placing lazy kisses over the exposed skin of my back, my neck, anything within reach, and others you would relay your dreams to me in a voice slightly husky with sleep. I would roll myself into you, prop my head on your chest and listen to your words - the tones and lilt of your voice - and think that this was true happiness. Just being. Just being with someone and listening to them and innately knowing them. Accepting and loving the comfort of even the sound of them getting ready, making coffee, because it meant they were there, just right there, sharing those moments with you, sharing their life with you. How could something so pure and so real become so muddled? -Me
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