Lovers.
April, was it?
Four years later.
I woke up to your text.
I had this bubbling in my heart.
I replied.
You asked me how was I.
I said I was fine. I asked what about you.
You said 'still in love with you'
I can't lie, I smiled like a buffoon.
I was feeling the happiness trickle down my spine.
I felt my heart thaw.
But I couldn't say that I loved you too, even after carrying you in my heart for so long.
I said I needed time.
You, being the good one, agreed.
I was moving away from our town.
I wanted to feel alive.
I told you I loved you.
I wanted everything to be new.
We fit right back in as if years hadn't passed.
You were my happy place.
Now, every time you said you loved me, I told you that I loved you more.
Even though we were a hundreds of miles away we were making it work.
We were golden.
We met.
And then we couldn't resist meeting every month.
I remember your lips, tentatively whispering against mine. I remember feeling you smile.
The way your fingers set my skin ablaze.
I remember your tongue, your nails, your hair, some sticking on your sweaty forehead, some tousled on the top of your head where my fingers found them.
I remember finding our rhythm for the first time.
I remember our laboured breath.
I remember our laugh.
I remember us happy.
We were so happy.
Pure unadulterated happiness.
I felt as if I was on top of the world. Nothing could touch us, we were soaring high.
We were electric.
