PERSONAL /LOVE: IF WE WERE TO MET

Sometimes I dream about the day that I talk to you. I would call you up and after we talk..I could not bring myself to hang up the phone or even so much as move it from my ear. The chance that I could hear your voice once again would be  too great a prospec.

And just like the movie, "Somewhere in Time", Ah, I found you." Came a voice behind me. My heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across my face. How do I already know her voice? 'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of thy tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound.' I remembered the line from Romeo and Juliet. I could not forget your voice if I tried. At the sound, all thoughts of the odd occurrence faded. I turned around to see you walking towards me. I realized when I  first saw you that there was a part of my mind that had wondered if you were real, if I had not only imagined your beauty, but clearly I had not. Somehow, You are real, right down to your ancient eyes. It felt just as indescribable to look into your eyes as it had before. We didn't not making love, we did not even kiss, but the inexplicable intimacy we shared left us wordlessly and hopelessly locked into each other's gaze

I took you hand in mine. I gasped when our skin touched and looked into your eyes in a kind of shocked wonder, my eyes wide. You hand was smooth and warm, a few degrees warmer than it should be, and that heat sank into me, but it was not your heat that made me gasp. It felt like a storm resided within my skin and the moment our hands met, the storm and heat went raging through my veins, leaving my skin tingling and my heart fluttering while also making my blush deeper. It was like heat lightning, flashes of brilliance without sound that told of an impending storm. It awakened something within me, something I did not know existed, and took my breath away. I had never felt anything like it before

“Do you think you might be able to love me someday?" I asked and heard her laugh softly. "I already do." You said and my soul soared. "So this is what the poets write about? This is what they call love?" You asked. "Yes my love." I said softly. "They do not do it justice." In that moment everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot

How do I describe the feeling that envelopes my being when you were near? It is like a cocoon of warmth and peace, but beneath that there is a deep longing, a hunger that one kiss would not be able to satisfy, one kiss would only make the hunger greater. But oh, how I long for that kiss, a kiss that might never come.

Being close to you does things to me, makes me feel things I never knew existed, makes me want things I have never wanted before. I have never desired to know a woman's body before I met your. I wonder if you knows that I desire you in such a way, that I not only want to know your body, but that I want you to know mine. There is a part of me that would not care if you loves me or not if I could just have one beautiful, passionate night with you, while the rest of me knows that one night would never be enough.