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plot by me 294 words
I look up at her naked back, the remnants of last nights scent wafting over to me. Her clothes lay tangled beneath her bedside table that stands next to me. She sits on the sofa of her new apartment in front of me, whilst I lay in bed. She's oblivious to my mindless stare.
Every ripple in her back, every strand of hair that falls down her back gently, catching in the sun so effortlessly. She looks so beautiful. I stare at her back. Is this what they write about in love poems? Is this what it means to be completely, utterly, simply and unconditionally infatuated with someone's entire persona, body, facial structures, being?
For this tiny moment, while the dust has settled, and it's just me and her in this apartment, naked and tangled beneath the sheets, while she pays attention only to the book in front of her. The bruises are purpled, and the wind has stopped blowing. This quiet moment of watching her has been all I've ever wanted.
I could die here, and be completely fine. Watching her figure burn it's way into my brain, over, and over, and over. She stands up and walks to the bathroom, and as she closes the door, I pull the cover across my chest and sigh. A sigh of happiness.
Because I've realized, this is it. Nothing in my life will amount to this, right here, because this is all I've ever wanted. To be loved by someone and have it reciprocated, to have all of the endless dead ends and suffering finally mean something. This is it.
This is all I've ever wanted. This is all I've ever waited for. I hope she has too.
