This is a follow up of Taboo, my post from January.

Six months my love.  Nearly six months since my last post here.  How far we’ve come.  Or maybe how far we fell.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m glad we did.

“Why do you have to be you? Isn’t it enough that since you’ve opened up to me I’ve seen you differently? Isn’t it enough that I am taken and these thoughts about you are wrong, just for that?  But no.  You have to be you.”

You are still you.  I am still me.  All that’s around us remains unchanged.  But we’ve changed and I don’t think I can ever go back.

“I should not be staring at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder,  daydreaming about grazing my teeth over that skin… Or gently biting down there as I come.”

No. I don’t have to dream anymore.  Of course I still do on those endless days and nights and weeks that we’re apart.  I dream of you more than ever.  You’re never far from my thoughts.

“Those unspoken words and knowing looks we share in a crowded room shouldn’t haunt me when I’m alone in the dark. Holding my breath and biting my lip so I can’t whisper your name at the final moment.  Because it’s wrong.  It can’t be you.

But it is. It is you.  It’s you as I lay on my front, face in the pillow hoping no one can hear, wishing my fingers were yours.”

It’s still you.  Always you.  I thought of you when I shouldn’t, in ways I never should have.  I still do.

Half way round the sun and my stomach still flips when you walk into the room.  My days are still counted by how many stand between us.  Your kisses still make my pulse race like no person ever has before.  I’m no silly girl in her first crush.  I’ve had flings, affairs, relationships and marriages.  But no one has come close to how you make me feel.

“You are dangerous and addictive.  And you.”

You’re more dangerous than ever but I don’t care. I’ve lost it,  completely.  And I’m perfectly happy with this.

I love you.