Michael

Everything goes the way you want it to eventually. Sometimes, like me, you just have to stop trying and let whatever it is come to you. I learned this last week and experienced something beautiful last night. I met this boy last spring, a year ago exactly. He was nothing I knew and everything I did not. He was special. He had something about him that I could not, and cannot, explain. He might have liked me, I don’t know. I’ll probably never know. I liked him. I have no idea why. He hurt me and I told him to have a nice life. I forgot about him for awhile, and then he popped into my mind one morning. He was my first thought and my last of that day. I saw him once this past fall. I never saw him again. I talked to him randomly. Then last week it happened. What I’ve wanted to happen for so long. He asked me over. Last night he picked me up. I forgot how much I liked his voice; not deep, not high, just right. I had forgotten how much his eyes made me want to kiss him every time I looked at them. I never forgot his smile though. Not once. His smile always seemed to start out as a smirk and turn into a full smile. We watched TV and he laughed so hard he cried. Then we went in his room and watched a movie. He cried then too. This movie was sad. I didn’t cry, but he did. He tried to hide it, but I told him not to. I thought it was cute. I actually thought it was probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen from a man. Tears. Silent tears. I wanted to kiss them away. I remember that in part of the movie, I realized that we were both breathing in perfect rhythm. I could hear him swallow. I could hear his heart. I wanted to feel his heart, so I put my hand over his chest and watched my hand move up into the air and back down; felt his heart beat against my hand. I felt life run through him. Exquisite. We watched TV with his friends some more. They all made me watch a show. They all thought it was funny when I asked if that was it, no more? I don’t know why. I didn’t think it was funny. I wanted to know. I was being serious. I listened to his roommate play music. It was beautiful, the guitar. I wanted to hear more, but then I caught his eyes watching me and he rolled his eyes towards the bedroom and I agreed with a smile. His roommate caught us and smiled knowingly. I grabbed the blankets off his couch and threw them onto his bed. He lay down next to me and held my hand while he watched the TV a little. I could have lain like that forever. Then he rolled over and stared at me, smiling. I could barely see him in the dark, but I could see his eyes and I stared back. He kissed my forehead, like he did before. He told me I was cute. He said he liked short hair in pony tails. I had short hair; it was in a pony tail. He asked me what I was thinking about. You, I replied. He asked what about me? And I said everything you say, every touch; I tuck it away into my memory so I can write about it. It is what I do. Weird, I know. Yeh kinda. That was his reply. I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at me right then for the rest of my life. Strange. Then his eyes smiled, because his smile faded as he leaned in to kiss me. I took his kiss and gave him mine in return. I’d forgotten the way his lips fit mine; so tender. I had forgotten that he took my breath away; that he made my heart beat too fast, like a hummingbird’s wings. Every few kisses we paused, our mouths open, just before our lips met, against each other, breathing; exchanging hot air. I forgot how much I missed kissing him. I had forgotten how much I wanted to be his; only his. When he rolled to be above me, I had never wanted anything more. I knew I was going to give myself to him. He kissed me with passion. Kissing my jaw line, my cheek, my lips, moving down my neck and to the top of my shirt. He kissed my lips some more, and I opened my eyes, staring at him, holding him, not wanting to let go. He pulled my shirt just high enough to kiss each side of the top of my pelvic bone, where I am most ticklish. I sat up and unzipped my sweater, slipped off my tank top, and became vulnerable to his eyes. His stare. I kissed him and pulled him down over me. Each kiss trailed down my neck and over my chest. I closed my eyes and relished every moment. Every touch of his sent chills down my spine and made my breath catch. As he kissed my cheek I whispered I’m nervous. Why? I’m with you. I’m nervous too. It will be okay. Just tell me if it is too much. I will. And then I watched him remove his clothes. I never watched a man get undressed before. I usually looked away. He was beautiful. Before he leaned down to kiss me, he said wow. I was so aware of every part of my body being exposed to someone else. I thought my heart was going to break my ribs beating so hard and fast. He kissed me and asked are you sure? I answered with a smile and a kiss. When he became a part of me, I…I can’t even explain what I felt. I just wanted to kiss him more. I wanted more of him and I wanted him to know. I wanted to be a part of him like he was of me. I tried to remember every touch, every kiss, every breath, every bite of the lip, every sound. I let all thoughts escape me and I let the moment over take me. I wanted to cry. I didn’t want to scare him though, so I just held it back. He stopped and asked if I was okay. I would never tell him I wanted to cry, so I said nothing and pulled him towards me for a kiss. Something built inside of me; something that felt like a tickle but was full of pressure. I had never felt anything like it. I clung to him, not knowing what to do. I was almost afraid. I figured out what it was and I smiled. I covered him in kisses, his neck, his cheek, and finally his lips. I wanted to be kissing him when it happened. I quickly wrapped my arms around his back and hugged him like I have never hugged before, letting all sound escape through my kiss and into him. He asked me if I was okay. He must have thought he had hurt me. I laughed and smiled and pulled him into another kiss, falling into an abyss of white. He knew. And when his time came shortly thereafter, I wanted to hold him again and I just stared at him as he was in his own world for moment. When our eyes met I wanted to kiss him and I did, over and over. I wanted to cry for this moment; this memory. I wanted to stay with him forever. And when he rolled over next to me, I lay my head down on his chest, syncing my breathing to his, listening to his heart, kissing his chest. He apologized for being done so soon, but said it was good. Was it good for you? Yes it was. I’m sorry again. It’s okay. I wanted to tell him that I had never had an orgasm before that night. I didn’t want to freak him out or anything. I probably wouldn’t have. He would have understood. We didn’t kiss again. We talked. We got dressed. We talked for a few more hours. I caressed his back, tracing his tattoo. I told him that he smelled the same. I love that smell. It reminds me of home, but mostly of him. He said I still smelled the same too. I reminisced spending the night with him last year. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I couldn’t keep my thoughts from slowing down. I kept looking at him. My feet got cold, so I pushed them between his calves and his feet started to tap my own. He was still asleep though. I wanted him to hold me, but I held him instead. I breathed in the smell of his skin, I tried to remember what his skin felt like against mine. I didn’t want to forget this amazing man that I don’t really know. He astounds me, inspires thought in me. I fell for him that night. I fell for him and I hope that he may feel even half of what I feel for him.