here, me naked and you in your underwear, as I lay restless and edgy,anxious and unhappy and wondering if I wished I was elsewhere.
Your fingers smell like cigarettes- a habit you promised you would stop for me- and I find i cannot escape you, as your touch, the very essence of you and your being is imbued in the pores of my body.
I don't know if this is what I want.
I know that I should simply rejoice in the moment; the being and togetherness of ourselves, but I find myself left wanting, longing for someone who wants and needs me as wholeheartedly as I want to want and need them. I don't know if you do this. I don't know if this is something you can give me, or indeed if this is something that you want. I don't know.
And perhaps that is the fundamental issue here, the unknowing, the uncertainty that if I give myself up to you, that this will be treated with the reverence I feel it deserves. But then, I don't know, maybe you fear the same things. Maybe.