I used to flirt with Him. He used to be my lover. I would fall into His arms, and He used to take my heart into such dark places. He would seduce me, whisper tender affectations and lovingly caress me. In the fold of His arms I would lose myself, sinking into our secret rendezvous, the place of oblivion. He was all I had. He was all I ever wanted. He was the only promise of peace, of escape from pain.
They said my Glasgow score was 3. That was how deep His love was for me. That was how deeply I fell for Him. We could not have gone much further than that and still return... But did I want to return? Did I have to leave?
I still think of my lover from time to time. I think about the safety of His passionate embrace and wonder if I could ever have that again. I think about the only love I ever had, of how things would be different if I had taken that leap with Him. And in times of insecurity, I wonder if He had ever really wanted me.
My heart still breaks a little when I think of Him, of what could have been. Even though I seem to be heading on a different path, I still sneak glances at Him and wonder if it could still be...
There is still so much heartache over the wanting, the needing, the pain, the rejection.