Midnight Moments

hold me closer even though you're gone

I still wish I had sex with you. I know that's wrong, but I do. If you asked me to have sex right now, I would. I don't care that you don't love me anymore. I want you.

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​It's interesting looking back at how I used to see it. I made a checklist for myself: (1) I had to be at least sixteen, (2) I had to be madly in love, and (3) I had to be dating the guy for over a year. I wanted you to make it special. I wanted it to be romantic, with rose petals and candles and all the other cliche bullshit you see in movies. But now I realize none of that matters. I would rewind to our day in the shower and fuck you right then and there in in your uncle's moldy basement bathroom if I had the chance. I would drive down to North Carolina right now and make love in the back of your mother's van if you told me you wanted to. Romance? Screw it. I want you.

I am not a slut. I am not irresponsible. I am in love. I am so madly in love with you, so absurdly infatuated that I'd be more than happy to lose my virginity absolutely anywhere as long as it's you. Because that's the thing: when you're truly and completely ready, you would give anything to be as close to that one person as you can possibly get, and nothing else really matters.

​I can visualize it right now. I'd be laying on my back and you'd be kneeling between my legs, terrified to hurt me. You would kiss me and tell me everything would be okay. You would be gentile and loving and relentlessly shower me with reassurance. You would be almost tentative, trying to maintain your composure, all the while worried out of your mind that you couldn't stop hurting me. And even though it would hurt, it would only draw me closer to you. We'd lay together afterwards, both naked and vulnerable, my head on your chest. I'd look into your bright blue-green eyes and you would kiss me gently, on my lips, then my nose, then back again. And even though you have experience, we would both lay there knowing that was the first time either of us had ever made love. And maybe it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be you, and that's all I could ever want.

I don't think I can ever let go of that vision, that perfectly imperfect vision. Perhaps it would be impaired now. Perhaps it would be different now that you don't love me anymore. But it would be you, and that's all I could ever want.