#Day 925: Fanatical Breath


My blood slowly, slyly, shyly comes alive when you run your fingers over my skin, teasing me with a feathered touch, bringing my weathered heart to a faster beat. I wake slowly, shivering despite your proximity.
And I look at you standing by the bed, watching me step out of my sleepiness, and the ghost of a smile that plays on your lips blows into a grin as I run my hands down your cheek.

If five months ago someone had asked me where I would be, this moment would count only as a dream. But you’re here, and you’re real and my mind can only register this in small waves, crashing into us. I sit up in bed and watch you walk around the room and it feels like nothing has ever felt before; like you bring every nerve ending in my body alive, only by existing; like your feet on the cold floor, padding softly, is the music I could hear forever and fall asleep to; it feels like my brain and every crevice of my waking brain, every edge of my subconscious and every last bit of my unconscious mind have submitted to you, fully and faithfully, to belong and to own, to give, to share, to hold.

If you were to ask me, a few years from today, the exact moment, the exact second I chose to thrust my heart into your hands, I’d say it was right about now as we’re sitting in a coffee shop and you’re fiddling with the sugar sachets. You looked up at me, flushed because of the snow outside and traced a little snowflake on my wrist, and I felt my spine crumble. My head is spinning because I’d never imagined, not in my wildest dreams, not in an alternate reality, that a gesture so simple, something so delicate could flood my limbs with ecstacy and now my hands are moving of their accord as they slide into the crook of your elbow and this feels just right; like a thousand bit puzzle that was missing just one last piece that we found under the couch; like the last page of a particularly captivating mystery novel that wraps it all up nicely; that’s what this feels like, that’s what you and I feel like. That’s when it clicked, that’s when I knew, that nothing else could ever be as fitting, as effortless, as inevitable, or as evident, as us.

And the idea of not being with you, of not having this impulsive numbness all of everyday makes my skin crawl and my fingers twitch and I know I’m done for, I’m spoken for now; taken, if I may, by someone who has sworn to stick around, promised to mend all that is broken and vowed to tear down the last wall I had built around my heart, vowed to tear down every last brick.
I can tell you, with no hesitation at all, with no inhibitions, nothing holds me back anymore. When I stand with you, the rust in my limbs flexes into a free flowing stream of love.

If they ask me ever about our beginning, I can say it, with no quiver in my voice, no doubt at all, I can tell them with complete conviction about the moment I fell absolutely and irrevocably in love with you-

“It was one of those supremely unrealistic moments: one breath and time is an imaginative concept; two breaths and space is nothing but a realm of endlessness; three breaths and his touch is the closest you’ve ever come to believing in God.”

You and I, we’re a Godless religion.


7 thoughts on “#Day 925: Fanatical Breath

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