To be continued

You kissed me softly, every inch of your skin melting into mine as you pulled me up into your lap. Laughing breathlessly at the ridiculousness of our situation, we collapsed in a pile of giggles and small sweet strawberry kisses. You ran your fingers through my hair, and whispered how beautiful you think I am, over, and over again into my skin, until I turned your face up towards mine, and sighed. I asked you if I could say something crazy, and you looked up at me with a smile. I asked if maybe we could try again one day. If you would want to. And you looked at me, kissed me hard, and answered only with your body on top of mine.

Having to tell you, the morning after, that you told me you loved me, hurt so much. Because we both know, we know how this ends. Another three months will pass. And we'll cross paths again, falling into each other's arms, beds, and hearts so easily, like we hadn't left at all.

I was starting to doubt that you cared for me, but feeling you pull me in tightly and kiss my forehead before falling asleep, or the playful water fights in the shower, or even the anxiety and panic of saying goodbye that left us both numb and questioning, I found my answers.

We can say it's over. You can tell me to sleep with someone else. You can keep trying to push me away and pretend that you don't love the feeling of my skin under your fingertips, but we can't really be over.

We may have to write these next chapters alone, but I know we're meant for more.