Sex...

I miss it. Not just the act but the connection. I crave affection like chocolate chip cookies and it’s killing me. Months before meeting Rob I had finally come to the conclusion that I had been going about things the wrong way. I now wanted that part of my life shared with a very special person. It wasn’t long after having those thoughts that I met Rob. I kept trying to put into words what all this meant to me. I tried to communicate to him everything I felt and how grateful I was to have him in my life and to be a part of his. I tried to wrap my mind around how this connection was so intense and the most special thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I did the only thing I really knew how to do and wrote him a letter one Monday morning. It was a story really, recounting the events of the previous weekend. I mailed it that afternoon. Three days later…
“I got your letter today.” Rob tells me over the phone.
“You did?” I smile. I had been anticipating it’s reception and his reaction.
“I really hope this is just you being you and you’re not doing it for me.”
I just laugh. Really, it’s both. I want to please him plus I’m working out what’s in my head, thinking that if I write I’ll understand it better.
“You write very well. It’s the best stuff I’ve ever read. You’ve captured the mood and the setting perfectly. You could sell this stuff!” he exclaims.
I laugh. “It’s for you dear, not the world.”
“I know, but I’m hanging on to them so you can eventually publish them!”
His positive response only encouraged me to write more. Sometimes he’d critique my words, or ask questions and other times he’d just smile and say thank you.
The letters are in my possession now. I’ve reread a few but it’s as if I don’t absorb the words, still not sure if I want to leave my comfortable denial that there won’t be anymore stories to write and mail.
How do I explain what it feels like to be loved so much it was beyond comprehension? How do I put into words what it felt like to be held as if you’re the most delicate piece of glass ever to be touched, or to feel like the most beautiful creature that ever existed and then to have it taken away in the blink of an eye?
I can’t look into his eyes anymore and feel my entire being melt, I can’t touch his face or kiss his forehead. I can’t warm my feet on his legs, I can’t feel his mouth on mine, I can’t feel my chest pressed against his back, I can’t feel the weight of his body, or hear him breathing. I can’t stop crying.