I KNEW

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He was everything. And then he was nothing, all at the same time.

Time and time again, I fell.

He was everything I wanted.

I pictured the perfect man and a beautifully painted portrait of his face was hammered into my mind. 

I wanted him. 

But I knew my place. 

He called, I answered. He texted, I replied. 

No hesitation. 

He desired, I provided.

Maybe one day, he’ll notice me...more.

Tonight was not that day. 

I walked into his apartment. 

The door was left open for me, I closed it behind me. 

He emerged from his bathroom...shirtless. 

Chest hair covered his smooth caramel colored skin.

I loved his chest.

It’ll cuddle the weight of my head within the few seconds of luck I’d get to lay on it after the deed was done.

He caught me staring. 

He smirked and walked into his room. 

I followed. 

I knew why I was here. 

But I asked anyway. “How are you?”

I hungered for this to be more.

But I knew I would remain ravenous. 

He stopped. He’s so tall.

I saw the muscles on his back tense. They clench and his neck widens.

Instantly, I’m reminded of his touch on my neck as I watched his neck continue the illustration his muscles started. 

Goosebumps ran down my spine. 

His head extended upward. 

I can almost hear his chest expand as he took in a long breath.

He turned. I froze.

He looked directly into my eyes.

Ironically, my body heated up. 

His dark brown eyes were like hot espresso early in the morning. 

I sunk into them. 

I knew I was staring again.

His face was a demitasse, so elegantly structured. 

Too cute to not want to hold. How could I not if it contained the caffeine that my body was so used to?

I needed my fix.

Bitter like espresso, “I’m OK.” slipped out of his soft lips. 

He continued, “Are you ready?”

Without hesitation, I began to undress.

He too began to expose himself. 

I saw him for what he was. His nakedness. 

Yet, I knew that I knew nothing of him but his nakedness. 

My very being yearned for more than just, nakedness. 

I desired vulnerability from the man I desired to be with so much. Beyond, just the physical. 

Being naked was just a cherry on top of the bigger treat I craved. 

I stood there exposed as I stared at his nakedness. 

Entirely exposed, just for him. My very all. 

However, we had different definitions of vulnerability. A sad truth I came to learn the hard way. 

But, beggars can’t be choosers. So, they say. 

This was enough. It had to be. 

I approached. 

It always felt like our first time, for me. 

I knew this was nothing more than an act for him. 

But, for me…it was everything. 

How can I walk away? I had him.

He sat on the edge of his bed. 

He watched me as I walked over to him.

His wooden floors carried my every step.

Chills ran up my body from the cold steps my bare feet took. 

I climbed up on him. His legs carried me now.

I wrap my arms around his neck. 

My racing heart bangs against my chest. 

He reaches his arms around my waist and teases my back with his touch as his hand travels upward. 

I felt safe. Wanted. 

The heat of his body warmed me up.

My heart rate began to slow down. 

I grabbed him by the neck with both hands as I adjusted myself on him.

Squeezing his neck, I lean in. 

I wanted to taste him...again and again. 

I kissed him. 

My very being began to pour into him. 

I could feel my all crash against his lips. 

Pressing my thumbs into his cheeks, I squeezed tighter. 

I was his water and he was my cup.

His large hands reached the back of my neck. 

Firmly, he grabbed it. I was his. 

I could feel the pulse in his fingers as he gripped the tattoos of the past painted by his lips.

This feeling was stronger than any drug. 

He pulls me down. 

His body catched mine as he crashed onto the surface of his bed. 

He turned over and our body’s exchanged positions.

Staring up at him, I grabbed his sheets and pulled them from under us and draped it over us. 

The world became silent and still.

It was only him and I as he lowered his body onto mine.

I loved the weight of his body on mine. It relied on each other. It brought me comfort. 

And like a gentle breeze on a humid night, his breath hits the side of my face caressing my cheeks.

Pushing my legs further apart from each other, he made his way past the threshold of the doorway I had become for him.

And with a long deep moan, I broke the silence.

He entered and I welcomed him in.

I was a doorway with no door for him. 

How can I not be? 

I was his home. 

Hated when he'd leave but loved when he’d return. 

Our bodies told a told love story. 

A fairytale with no happy ending.

I loved every second we shared. 

I was no longer me; he was no longer him. 

We became, we.

This is what I craved. This is what I yearned for. 

However, we did not share the same feeling. This was just sex for him.

I could feel it in his fingertips as he ran them along my naked body. Empty. 

I knew this touch too well. 

It was nothing but a mere touch. 

I wasn’t enough to be more than just physical, for him. 

Goosebumps began to crawl up my skin with every thought exposing this realization. 

I looked into his eyes. Those beautiful dark brown eyes. 

I saw my own reflection. 

Painted on them was me, desperate.

The me that drowned in the emptiness his glare gave; swallowed by his void. 

That void was my portion. 

There was no denying it, I was in love.  

How did I love this man so much? Why did I love this man so much?

We were nothing but mere bodies interacting. 

My soul craved for who he was but settled for what he was. 

We were nothing but two objects.

But nonetheless, we had this. 

And so, again and again, I will come. 

And tonight, I came.

Then I left. 

I knew my place. 

I came, I saw, but he...conquered.