the smell of him settles nicely, deeply in my chest. i wrap myself around that smell and take long, slow breaths, wishing for it to stay, wishing for it to linger.
i long to touch every inch of him. his goofy smile, that dreamy look in his eyes, his rough hands, his sulk, his calm. i look for all the tell tale marks on my skin that screams "i was here!". i long to fall into his arms and just stay there. i love how he shoo-s all my childish worries away, how he says "good shot, babe!" even when the shuttlecock hits the net. i like that my feet are now accoustomed to his house, i know where to step over the door frame, how my feet must grip the floor, where the the bathroom switch is, how much prressure to put on the tap so that it squeks as little as possible.
i like the way the evening sunlight drops so regally over his face. and i love the way he dances on (embarrasingly) minimal amounts of vodka and redbull.
its unfair, the world wont stop for us, just for a little while, and we must fall back into the distance.
its the simple things. just the simple things. distance makes the smallest efforts seem like grand gestures. it makes everything pure again.
calcutta was cold and nippy. perfect make out weather.
perfect weather to be held in.
i said this trip would be defining.
i was right.
it's him. he's it.
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