If Only...
  • Reads 20,108
  • Votes 715
  • Parts 82
  • Time 20h 11m
  • Reads 20,108
  • Votes 715
  • Parts 82
  • Time 20h 11m
Complete, First published Aug 17, 2014
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.
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In the quiet corners of my heart, I kept a secret garden-a fragile bloom of love that I tended with care. It was for someone who never truly belonged there. His touch was like frost on petals, beautiful yet cold. His words, sweet as honey, dripped with deception. I loved him with a fervour that blinded me to the truth sometimes love is a cruel mirage. But as the seasons changed, so did my perception, revealing the fault lines of our mismatched souls. He was the wrong puzzle piece, forcing himself into spaces where he didn't fit. And I, foolishly, tried to mould myself to his edges. The pain of loving the wrong person is a silent ache-an ache that gnaws at your spirit, eroding the very essence of who you are. It's the realisation that you've been watering a barren tree, hoping for blossoms that will never come. Yet, I clung to him, desperate for validation, afraid of the void that would follow if I let go. But life has a way of surprising us. In the quiet aftermath of heartbreak, when tears blurred my vision, I stumbled upon a different kind of love. It wasn't loud or tempestuous; it was a gentle whisper-a warm breeze that carried away the debris of shattered dreams. 𝓓𝓮𝓿 appeared like a sunrise after a storm, illuminating the corners of my wounded heart. He was the right puzzle piece missing half of my soul. His laughter was a melody that resonated with mine, and his touch ignited constellations within me. We built a love that didn't need mending, for it was whole from the start. In his arms, I found solace, and in his eyes, I glimpsed eternity. The pain of loving the wrong person prepared me for the miracle of finding the right one. It taught me that scars can heal, and broken hearts can bloom anew. Now, as I stand on the threshold of forever, hand in hand with the one who fits seamlessly into my existence, I honour the past wrong turns, the tears, and the silent battles. For they led me to this love that feels like coming home.
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