Dear Dan,

006.

We fuck like synonyms.

We do not touch each other gently, we fuck like two words that are mirrors of each other, or magnets of the same polarity and by being held against each other, we begin to implode. I do not grip him gently, I rip at his back as if I am trying to pull his skin back and step inside of him, I wrap my legs around his body and stretch my body towards his so our chests are touching.

He groans in response, and I say nothing because we fuck like birds fly, we fuck as if we are empty vessels trying to find the stars in each other's souls so we actually feel warm for once.

But we don't touch gently.

He attacks my neck like I am a feast and he hasn't eaten for decades. I want to press him into me so hard that he becomes a part of me. He thrusts his whole body forward, he pushes in and out of me, at a quickening pace, and both of us are whimpering like this is the only thing in the world we have been missing. I cry out as I reach my climax, and he falls into suit behind me, his legs shaking, his body twitching, I watch him in amazement.

I want to drop to my knees and suck him dry, I want to hold him to my mouth without mercy, he falls on top of me and breathes heavily and I welcome the extra weight with pleasure. I run my fingers over the already reddening marks on his back. He kisses from my throat to my breasts. I look down at him in the same second he looks up at me.

He is urban exploration, he runs his hands all over my body as if each piece is hanging in a museum, he holds me tight and I can't stop him from nibbling on my skin. He traces patterns on my ribs like invisible cartography, and he can't stop treating me like holy ground.

"I want to tattoo your name on the inside of my eyes," he whispers, kissing the same spot three times.

I say, "I'd rather you whisper it with your lips between my thighs."

December 31, 2014

We have slept in hospital chairs built for being uncomfortable and Jackie has yet to stop pounding her foot into the floor, she holds Dan's hand so tightly, I'm sure it would wake him up. Every time I think she is going to fall asleep, she doesn't, and every time I am sure Dan is about to wake up, he doesn't.

My Mum has begged me to come home and see her, also to be with her to ring in the New Year but nothing seems more appealing to me than sitting in this hospital room beside the only guy I have ever been in love with and waiting for him to wake up, whether that takes weeks, months, years or the rest of my life.

I knew Dan was going to be a lot to take on from the way he always smelled so god damn delicious and that must have rewired my nervous system because something about his oversized shirts and the way driving relaxed him sent shivers down my spine.

I fell for him like he was black ice and I was an eighteen-wheeler on a dark night. I look over at him and visually capture the bruises and bumps, the lip cut, the eighteen stitches on his forehead and the ugly dark bruise on his chin, forever keeping that in my memory and forever remembering that I was here for this, during his weakest moment, to make sure that when he got through this, he knew how much I loved him.

"Grazia, would you be a doll and step out with Mrs Howell? We have to change Mr Howell's clothes."

I almost laugh at her, nothing I haven't seen already, but I keep my mouth shut and nod anyway, following Jackie out of the room, blushing at the fact that I had been daydreaming about fucking her son just minutes ago.

We walk silently, together towards the cafeteria, where I have learned all of the staff's names and the food they serve every day. I settle on a nice burger, and Jackie settles on some salad, still not being able to hold anything down, though I'm sure she's full from how many nerves she's eaten in the past six days.