A Heater for A Back

I woke

up with you on the side of the bed next to me, in the spot you always used to be in, in your bed. Your hair was a frazzled mess and you were sleeping peacefully. My chest was against your back and I could feel your body heat radiating, serving as my heater. I missed this I thought to myself, I missed you. It had been to long since the last time I watched you sleeping, since the last time I felt your skin against mine. I would sacrifice a lot for that moment, I decided because in that moment I knew what love was. I knew that through all the bullshit at the end of every day this is where I wouldn't mind waking up and falling asleep. I could watch you sleep like that for hours, watch your back rise and fall with every breath, listening to you breathing not in a creepy way but in a way where I admire your whole being, everything that you are. I knew I would have to get up eventually, go home, go back to us not talking, go back to reality but in that moment time froze and all I could feel was love and happiness I was truly, deeply, engulfed in happiness. You do that to me, I hope you know. When I am with you I can forget about everything, breathe easier, I can laugh and relax. You are my only vice and that makes you deadly. That makes every time I walk away harder, that makes you unable to forget. I laid there, ran my fingers through your hair and said your name to try and tell you I was leaving, daylight was coming and reality was calling my name. My heart was pulling at my body, telling me to stay in that moment, to keep my fingers in your hair and my chest against your heater of a back. You woke up, rolled over and wrapped your long arms around my body, pulling me into your chest and squeezing me tight like you also knew this could be the last moment we had. There were so many things I wanted to say, that I wanted to ask you in that moment but I didn't want to ruin it, our secret fantasy of love. For once I wanted to keep the moment sacred, I didn't want to fight about what we were and what we were not. I already knew what we were and what we weren't and both of those things were a tragedy and I would never persuade you to believe otherwise so what was the point of discussing it? In reality, we were two people who have become strangers lying in a bed together for one last time. When I thought of it that way, it made me sad it made me realize how much our story has effected me, how much it has torn me apart yet also pulled me together. You were the best and worst thing to ever happen to me all at the same time. I think that's why I tried so hard to keep our love alive, why I came over and slept with my chest against your back. Why I lied to myself, telling myself it will be okay, telling myself to not ask questions just enjoy this moment because sometimes the questions aren't worth the destruction of a perfect moment like the one we were having. That perfect moment was shaken awake anyways, by daylight and by my own realization of reality. The things we will do for love, to feel loved, to share a moment with someone else are insane. We would cause our own self destruction if it meant holding on to one last glimpse and shimmering hope of love.