As I walked to you house in the rain I was breathless and uncommitted. I have been avoiding seeing you for weeks. A mixture of laziness, lack of opportunity and fear. What if I've forgotten how to feel good or be present?
I stood by your door and I messaged you whilst I watched your neighbour downstairs in her window, smoking a cigarette and looking out to sea.
You answered the door not as expected but not unattractive, and welcomed me in. We went upstairs.
"So is this your flat?"
"Yeah, I live here alone"
"Are you friends with your neighbour, only I saw her in the window and she looked really depressed".
"I think it's because her boyfriend's not home"
"She was looking over the bay like she was missing someone at sea"
"I'm pretty sure he just drives a van..."
We laughed and you made me a coffee and I did some talking and some over talking, and you let me, and you laughed at my jokes, genuinely and kind.
You kissed me, gently, and I kissed you back and we went upstairs and took off our clothes. We fucked a few times, it wasn't perfect but it was no where near bad. You complimented me and Im glad that I still know how to suck a dick, it's been a while...
You ate me, pleasured me, made sure I climaxed several times but more than that in between the sex you held me and you stroked my body, made me laugh, and you spoke to me like a human, like an equal woman.
Part of a healing process, part of becoming again, as part of life. Remembering how to be somewhere, with someone and remembering how to enjoy it. Remembering that I am deserving, without reciprocation. You are part of a healing process, and your kindness shone from your finger tips and your eyes.
