absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose; that should be a good thing, because if it weren't for the intense feeling of longing, I wouldn't know what to make of my feelings

maybe I still don't know what to make of my feelings, but I know some things

I want you, in the realest ways possible 

I want to take in the pigment of your skin, inhale its scent while we embrace

I want to trace the indents in your torso, dancing my fingers around the warmth so I know you're real

I want to see the blood rush to your face, mimicking the intensity 

I want to see your eyes haze over, closing after looking into mine, silently letting me know that you want the same

I want to see your lips part ever so slightly before taking them into mine

I want to hear your voice, caught in your throat, telling me that you love me, even if we both know its a lie, even if we only have to pretend it's true for a few moments

I want to feel you, mold with you in every way 

I want you 

in the realest ways possible