Masked

Last

Months had gone by with little argument between Louis and I. We were certainly learning how to be together without causing hell everyday.

I was never one to go to church but I swear to you I thanked God every night for bringing Louis to me. 

I remember one day he was scribbling into his journal. I sat above him on the bed with a glass of red wine. I was just admiring him, taking him all in. 

It amazed me that no matter how many times I saw him he still looked like the most beautiful creation I had ever laid eyes on.

"What are you looking at?" He giggled.

"You," I said without missing a beat.

"Why?" He continued to laugh.

"You're beautiful," I said.

He just sat there and smiled at me. His eyes were shining and the sun was just peaking in behind him. 

It was getting ready to set and the clouds looked like cotton candy.

I will never ever forget that image.

I find it hard to believe anything will ever amaze me as much.

He shut his journal and crawled into the bed with my and burned his love into me. 

The next day he was going home for his sisters birthday.

No matter how much time went by it still hurt that I couldn't be with him, always.

I pictured the family gathering around while she blew out her birthday candles. 

Everyone would have their cameras out, singing and smiling.

I would put my hand on Louis' back and smile at him.

It didn't take much to pull me out of my fantasy.

"I should probably get going," he said while changing his shirt.

I watched as he tossed it onto the bed and pulled a fresh one over his soft skin.

I remember wishing he wasn't leaving, but I wouldn't admit it. 

"I'll see you in just two days," he promised.

"I know, I know," I smiled.

He kissed me over and over.

"Thank you," he said to me while holding my chin his hands.

"For what?" I asked with a tiny smile spread across my lips.

"For loving me, always," he said.

"I love you," I blushed.

"I love you too, I will call as soon as I get there," he kissed me again.

He grabbed his bags and headed towards the door.

I remember feeling particularly attached to him that day. It didn't matter how many times he left, I always missed his presence when he was gone.

One he left I considered showering but loved having the smell of him all over my body. 

I kept myself busy and even considered going out that night.

Five hours had gone by before I heard from him. 

At first I just assumed he forgot to call, he had done it before.

I wasn't too worried until it was well into the night and he hadn't returned any of my text messages.

My mind was swarming with horrific possibilities. 

Every time he walked out of the door I feared that he would change his mind about us.

I always wondered if he thought about me as much as I thought about him. 

Whether we were together or apart he was the only thing on my mind.

It was ten o'clock when I began calling him over and over and got no response.

I tried my best to stay calm and get some rest.

"He'll call me in the morning, he's just busy with his family," I thought to myself.

I remember feeling like I was obsessed and that he would hate me if he knew how worked up I was.

I decided it was best to get some sleep and let him have his time with his family. 

I fell asleep holding on to the t-shirt he had left from the night before, his scent was the only thing to soothe my brain.