Little (M) conversation

“Love, take this flower. This is for you,” he said while sending me a picture of him with rose in his mouth. “Should i take it with my hands or my lips?”

“The second one, i think that’s a good idea, no?” That smirk, that always make me obsessed with him.

I sent him a picture of me and say “what you’re gonna do then if i take the flower with my lips?”

“You already know the answer, love? I feel a need to tell you that “If I could kiss you right now, I’d probably never stop.” I’d hold you and let you collapse into me. Every worry you have in your brilliant mind would be on my shoulders now and I’d welcome it all with pride. I would make you feel my love. I’d be your rock. Your protector. Your foundation. Your safe place. Your home. I’d make you feel my intensity from your toes to the follicles on your beautiful delicate head as my lips met yours and your breasts pushed into my chest. I’d make you know — as deep as you have ever known — what it feels like to be taken care of, protected, listened to, and held, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. The passion you thought you knew before would feel small. The power I will show you would flood through my body and you have no choice but to succumb to the sheer magnitude of my adoration for the very existence of you. Yeah. That’s what you do.”

I told him i loved him first. And he told me he loved me, and even if i wasn’t sure i did, i felt it common courtesy to say it back. And maybe that was wrong of me, but then i slowly began to realize that i loved him with all of my being. I loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the way his smile would bring a warmth to my chest which reminded me of lazy summer afternoon, the way that he made me feel beautiful and strong even when i didn’t believe it myself. I fell in love a little more each day. And by the end, i felt that the words ‘I love you’ didn’t even come close to expressing what i felt for him.