It was always Mekh

No matter the distance between us, it’s always been you.

It’s your name on my lips when the first light of dawn kisses my eyelids awake. It’s your voice that is woven into the fibers of my soul. It’s your eyes I see when I close my own. It’s your hand that can touch mine and ignite fires in my being.

Your body is as familiar to me as my own. I know where your scars lie, where you shy from being touched, and exactly how to make you smile. You know how to make me weak and still keep me steady.

You are still my greatest weakness.

I am a willing captive to you. In the prison of your eyes, I am lost and don’t want to be found. I want to dive into the oceans of you, and I am completely fine if you swallow me whole. I want to feel your hands on my back, buried in my hair, and your strong arms around me. I want to hear my name on your lips and to breathe yours like a prayer. I want to feel the thunder of your heartbeat under my hands and for you to feel my complete surrender.

I try to explain how I feel, but the words fail even me. I can’t quite explain how it is possible to want both everything, and yet expect nothing, because every moment with you is enough.

I can’t quite understand how I can see eternity in your eyes and want nothing beyond the present moment.

I wonder sometimes if this is how the best romances are written—one moment, one day, one week, one month at a time with another person who brings out the best in you, whose trust you’ve earned and whose presence is simply enough. Maybe the best romances are written one moment at a time—and when you look up, it’s been a lifetime.

Maybe some things are just too big to hold in the conventional packages. Maybe we are too different to fit the boxes we’ve been told we should embrace. Maybe none of this, or that, matters in the end.

Maybe all that matters is that it’s you. It’s still you.

It’s always been you.

My Mekh.

Neilmekh

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