I once dated this guy that I was crazy about. The relationship was perfect and we only broke up because we saw ourselves in different places. Me in L.A. with my acting and him in Europe with his art.
The first few months our relationship was a secret. My parents were strict and he was a bit paranoid. It felt like Romeo and Juliet without the tragedy. Moments only we knew about. My favorite place was in his arms. I was completely surrounded by the perfection of that man. His warmth, his smell, his strong body. I still dream of those moments.
In our. . . Intense moments he could set my nerves, my veins on fire. God I wanted him to burn me. Turn me to ash. I honestly can't think of a moment when I wasn't happy.
I think it's safe to say I was in love. It's a damn shame it had to end. I will always miss him but I also understand that with what we wanted the relationship would have suffered. Perhaps one day when we're secure in our dreams we can try again. Until then all I have is the memory of him.
