The way you call me “babe”, the way you kiss the tip of my nose, how your left arm is always extended across the bed for me to curl into your side, how you hold me so my face is pressed into your chest and one of my hands rests between your naked thighs, how you rub my back so slow and gentle, how I feel so completely at peace in your arms in this bed.
How I don’t have to ask for you to take out the garbage or get the coffee pot ready for tomorrow, how you never complain about cooking or grocery shopping when you know I hate it and don’t want to do it, how you see beers you think I’ll like and bring them home to me, the way you make me feel safe and cared for every time your hand touches the small of my back when we’re walking through doorways, the way you make me feel so special and yours.
But there is a mountain of lies blocking my view of the future, as well as a door you won’t walk through and close, and no matter how much love there may be between us, a girl can only take so much.
This was written in response to Maya Stein’s Tri-Writing prompt: Sour or sweet?
