Cactus

 There was pressure. It was pushing, just at the entrance. Some place that feels tight. Tense. But, waiting for pleasure, too. I felt it. Like inception. I couldn't tell if it was real or if I was still dreaming. Your hand cupped me under the cloth, my back pressed to you. Right against your chest. I was too tired. Too sleepy. I pushed your hand away. I felt like I was trying to wake myself to protest. Your hand retreated and you breathed in deep. You let out a happy groan and I kept dreaming. 

It felt easy. It felt. Light. I was nervous. Sweating. I tried not to lift my arms. You kept disarming me and I wanted to run my fingers through your hair. I was pouring anticipation. I wanted you. All of it. I still do. I needed more time, too. I'm not sure if I ever needed to just give no answer to get the message received. Not quite in this way. There was that time that I could wish a hand on me and it was there. This wasn't the same. It was better somehow. Saying I don't want a hand, and it retreating. Respecting the boundary. Putting the feeling aside. Knowing when to reach out and when I would take it. 

I looked at you and I didn't feel too weird about it. Sometimes, I guess I did. Just because I did still feel nervous. But. At the same time, it just felt right. To just look. That color. It's a feeling. Your eyes, are a feeling. Its a warm waterfall, a sea of warmth and salt. A warm pool in a secluded forest. Bright. Not humid. Sunny. But, shaded and white sand. Perfectly white sand. Theres these spots, the freckles, just under it and I feel like they are smooth stones, light brown and placed in the sand, just so. 

I kept crossing my arms to shield my diaphragm. I felt like my breath would leave me any moment. That I would stop breathing. I am not sure why. I'm not sure why I felt like I needed to. I wasn't covering my heart. I felt like you knew what I was feeling and held me, I wanted to just let everything out. I felt you were disappointed in me and I hated it. It stung me and I willed the tears to stop. A few escaped and I don't even know why I felt safe enough to do so. I spent months getting to know some people before I ever dared let myself be vulnerable. I felt disarmed. I wanted someone like you all along. You were doing other things. You stopped to kiss me. Every now and then. It was something I would do. Something I hope I get to do another time. To just feel... Like you were thinking about me even though I was right there. Like my mind had left the room and you reminded me that I was still welcome. It was still okay to be vulnerable. It was okay to let my heart out. To feel it all. 

I almost came. I really did. I thought, briefly, that I can't yet. But, you were close. And I could tell it wouldn't be long until I would be. Until those thin walls would reverberate your name. That maybe we would hear some praying in response. I liked that you were encouraging. That you were sweet and loving but also you were desperate and hungry. You wanted to leave marks on me. To get at me. Mark me. But, not to hurt. Not to claim. Just out of pure need. The mix of intimacy and needing. The secret key to what I need, too. 

I was watching you. Stealing time to drink you in. Your fingers are perfect. I left the conversation, only briefly. Your nails. I do always wonder where I get this strange reasoning to love parts of people that aren't necessary. It's not sexual. Not a fetish. Just an admiration to parts that maybe never were admired before. Or maybe I'm not that strange after all. Maybe your hands were something other women loved to be near. They are soft and sweet. I wanted to just reach over and drag my hands over your fingers. Feel the smoothness on your nails. I wanted to kiss you under your eyes on your freckles. To feel the breath you let out when I touch the back of your hair. 

Sitting on a park bench, looking at the most beautiful place to be at that moment. It was hot. It was humid. I don't like that sort of weather. But, the honeysuckle was big enough to sit inside of it. There was a lot more room, too. This bush had become a tree and it wrapped around us in a protective shell. I was still unsure of you. I was too hot to want you to kiss me, but that would have been a good spot to. You were speaking and I was jolted while taking in my surroundings that there was a noise that was ringing in my ears. I felt it in my bones. I felt it in my spine and it disarmed me and I was temporarily destroyed by the feeling. I looked over at you, flicked my eyes into yours. I was still feeling too shy to look at you head on too long. But, your voice. It was in my body, sliding up and down my spine and vibrating through me. The tone you had set to your story was flowing through the wood. Along your arm that rested behind me. I moved almost uncomfortable at the intimacy. I didn't know yet if it was mine or not. I wanted it to be, I think. It took a little more time to decide that, I think. 

I'm happy. You said. You look happy. You said. It wasn't a question. It was the truth. The stark, honest truth. The walls had all melted down in an instant. I am still shy. Still nervous. Still. Need more time. But. These walls were down and I didn't feel when they had dropped, only that being near you made me not feel so scared. Even though I was. I am. I wanted to be open. Vulnerable. To bear my heart. I hope it doesn't bite me in the ass. I hope that I get to follow through on what I already feel as truth. That this is something I deserve. Something I need. Want. Something we both do. And it just feels right. 

You live in a magical place and I just felt safe. It was quiet. The forest was sleeping. The trees were sweet. There was a gentle drip someplace in one of the walls that was soothing me. I didn't find it hard to sleep. I just wanted you to be close to me and you did too. It has been a long time since I could just rest my head on someone's chest. Let each other be tickled by each other's hairs. I touched your skin. I wanted to keep touching you. Your back, your neck, your hair, your scalp. I just watched you. Touched the softest part of your earlobe. Admired the freckle that lives there, too. It's darker against the pink. You were watching me, then. Smirking like a cat. Like a devil with pleasure and interest curling at your mouth. I watched you. I smiled back. I turned after awhile and you turned with me. Living in sync with each other. Something I have wanted for a long time. I reached behind your head and felt your scalp. I grazed you lazily, kindly, until your breathing slowed down. You dipped into sleep. My body ached to move and I didn't want to. I wanted to feel that sweetness for longer. The sound of your sleep and the skin on your chin rested on my shoulder. 

I needed to shower. From anxiety sweat. From taking a 3.6 mile walk. From our bodies heating for hours, pawing at each other until I was sweating a river, feeling it drip down my sides. I didn't want to. I wanted to keep smelling your apartment. Your smell. The shirt you let me borrow for a few hours while we slept. I wanted to keep smelling you. It lingered. I want it to continue, but I know it will be gone soon enough. I still feel the smell of you, the warmth of your skin. The hum of you being happy. All of it. It's still warm on my cheeks. I want to live here for a little longer. Enjoying the potential. I want to be selfish and curl up like a cat on your shoulder as long as I can. Softly kissing your neck and watching you swallow. 

You feel unrest. You didn't place it on me, but I heard you out. I let you explain. I wanted you to tell me what you desire so I can help you get it. Help guide you and encourage you. You have all the answers for yourself. You needed to say it out loud. To have a witness. Someone to remind you when you have doubts. When you forget. I wanted to take your hand and tell you that you can be anything. I didn't. I could tell you just needed to hear your own truth. That it was enough. Things will be more clear soon. It will be okay. And don't hold yourself back from your true desires. I want to be there for it. For you. I want to be the smile when you need it. The reminder that you deserve to be fulfilled. To be happy. To be loved. By yourself and then by others. You told me some dreams you have and it made me like you more. You were a bit sad about it, but it made my heart melt more. The walls didn't exist by then. I felt your skin, like a glow, even though we weren't touching. That the energy we have near each other was just the same and we lived in our own space. Like we had been wise old friends and just decided to begin anew.

Safe. I feel safe.