I felt something last night. Something strange and new and wonderful. It had been forever since I’d felt it, and never this intensely. As we laid together in your bed, wrapped around each other in the late night, I felt what it is to be human and to feel. With my head resting on your chest I could hear your heartbeat, quick and steady, and I wanted to say:
“You’re alive, I’m alive. We won’t be here forever, but I’m so damn grateful to be here now, listening to the sound if you living, being a part of that. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”
But I didn’t. I reveled in it. In the way your skin felt beneath my hands, soft and warm. Breathing in your air, your scent. Feeling safe and warm and loved in the comfort of your strong arms. I felt what it is to be alive, what is worth living for, and I dream of having it each day from now until I am no longer alive.
