It was your kisses.

I liked you for who you were. I might not have been good at saying it. I might not have been good at expressing myself. I might have been governed by my fear. Insecurity that you wouldn’t like me for me. Fear that if I spoke my mind you would not understand me. Fear that you would relapse.  In retrospect I realize that a lot of the reason of why we didn’t work was because I was so afraid of being myself that I put up too many walls between us.

But I also know that our life styles were not compatible. That I can’t feel like I mean nothing compared to the substance you are chasing down the street. That I need to be treated like I am important. That maybe if I didn’t feel so tossed aside it would have been easier for me to open up in a way that I needed to.

But through all the pain, through all the misunderstanding, and through all the regrets there is something I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you about how some of our experiences  together are still precious to me. I wish I could tell you that you are a wonderful person, but that you need to learn how to treat people better. Skills that I know you have, warm heart that I know you have, but the addiction overrides that. I wish I could tell you that I was sorry for pushing so hard, for thinking that just being patient and affectionate would make you understand how I felt, but it didn’t and I should have tried to communicate better much earlier. I wish I could tell you that I didn’t have strong feelings for you because we slept together, which from that I could tell was  what you thought. But because I genuinely loved who you were.

And because of your kisses and how you held my hand. Contrary to the common belief that I don’t understand, sex is not the way to a girls heart, at least not mine. It’s the little things that win me over. The gentle looks of love that you only give to someone you treasure. Looks that you give to me and not every other girl you comes your way. How you held my hand as we fell asleep. How I could sleep with my face as close to yours as I wanted. How you hugged me and rubbed your cheek against mine.

But especially how you kissed me. How the first kiss was always so gentle, like a whisper, asking sweet permission. How the next were warm and inviting, kind. How our kisses slowly got deeper and deeper, longer and more passionate. How you always had a way of making me feel like while our lips met I was the only thing that existed. In those moments while our lips touched, I would melt. I felt treasured. I felt like I was yours, and in those moments that was all I wanted.

While a part of me wishes life was different. Wishes I was better at being open and wishes you weren’t a drug addict. I know that such wishes are not going to come true. And while I use to wish that I could be yours, that you could be the one to kiss me that way, make me feel that way. I now know better.

And I can only hope, that one day, I will find another, who can make me feel the way you did. And I am thankful, that at least I got to experience it once.

 

Category : My life
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