When love was easy

I think that, personally speaking, there comes a time in every relationship when love is easy. Depending on the person, this can last a few weeks, to months...I've never had anything go past months. Except in high school. But then that shit didn't really count. You're still in that "my parents make money so I don't have to" bubble, so love has to be easy.

I always do my deep thinking when I have alone time. Then I can take things apart, examine them piece by piece, subtract emotions and look at each one logically and truthfully.

And truth is, I loved that man.

Right now he is hurt. Maybe angry. Definitely not on speaking terms with me. Which makes me sadder than I like to admit. Does it make the fact that we were not good together any less true? No. And I believed that we could have been great together.

Scratch that.

We could have been epic together.

But if wishes were horses, everyone would ride. Isn't that how the saying goes?

I spent a lot of time wondering why this man I loved didn't look at me. I wondered if I was that unattractive that he couldn't see me, refused to introduce me to people in his life, barely agreed to time spent together that was not in one of our respective houses, in our respective beds. A woman begins to wonder and doubt. She begins to feel like she is alone in a relationship.

I felt alone. 

But I loved him. All of his quirks and frustrations. His teasing of me. The rare moments when he kissed me. And it was so rare.

A kiss.

We didn't tell each other that we loved each other. And that, after two years of being so incredibly unloved, that may have been the worst thing.

But I loved him. 

I loved him like breath.

I loved him like a thundercloud.

I loved him like the sound of wet rain on glass. Like steam in the shower. Like honey in your tea.

To feel all of this for someone who couldn't/didn't have time for/wouldn't show me affection? Probably makes me a little crazy.

And makes my current feelings a bit easier to understand. 

How could I not enjoy someone who spends so many silent minutes staring into my eyes and smiling like I'm a miracle?

How can I resist someone who cannot cease to touch me? Kiss me? The emotions from that alone make my eyes cross. I feel like I havent been touched in years.

Yes. My body has been molded. Entered. Used. But the rest of me? The small parts I felt must be insignificant? He touched my ankles and I wanted to propose. lol. That's a literal statement. I actually felt that.

So it's new. And it's easy. And I don't know how it will look when the new rubs off. But for now, I plan to enjoy without regret, what it feels like...

To be loved back.