If Only...

There I was, out of breath, on top of a tree in the woods in the middle of the night on my 18th birthday, screaming my throat out, when he took my hand and looked into my eyes.

"You are the butterflies in my belly as I scream." I frowned as he guided my hand onto his belly, but listened.
"You are the beats of my heart as I stand ten feet off the ground
You are my lack of breath; and my precious breath
You are the wind in my hair
You are the blood in my veins
You are the thrill in my limbs." My heart started to beat faster as he guided my hand over his own. His eyes pinioned me in place, and I was falling into them.
"You are the cold on my skin
You are the warmth in my belly
You are the moonshine in my eyes
You are the smell of August and of life
You are the touch of night-beautiful and mysterious
You are the satisfaction in my soul
You are the fear in my mind
And the love in my heart."

My hand ended right above his beating heart, and with tears in my eyes, I knew.

This is home.