I think of all the times our lips have touched. All of the times that we kissed…I wish I could have stopped time in those moments. I wish they had lasted longer. We often don’t know when a kiss will be the last one. I’m remembering the last time that we kissed. Will our lips ever meet again? 

You always kissed me goodbye at the door. A small kiss and a hug. I looked forward to it. Sometimes I would stand on the stairs so that we could be the same height as we kissed. Sometimes I like leaning my body into yours and rising up on my toes to meet your lips.

I miss the feeling of you initiating a kiss. Moving your head towards mine with desire. I always wanted it to mean so much more than it did. But still, it happened. We kissed so many times that I lost count. It was never enough. I wish that I could still hope for more, but it’s all done now. I don’t think we will ever kiss again. Sometimes no amount of desire can make something into what I wanted it to be. Longing for more only prolongs the pain and emptiness. 

Once you traced your finger over the outline of my lips. I felt so desired and special. I remember the significance of that moment, I think about it all the time. I wonder what you felt for me to want to touch my lips with your fingertip like that. I wonder if you remember it as I do or if it was just a moment in time that slipped away from you as your feelings and desire for me faded.

I felt like maybe how it feels to be loved. I felt your awe and wonder. Your reverence and desire for more of me. It was so fleeting, over so fast, but I will never forget it. I wish I had the nerve to have done the same. To have touched your lips so gently with my finger tip and traced the outline lovingly. Maybe that was a way my feelings of love could have been safelt communicated. Maybe not.

I touched you in the best, most sacred ways I knew how. I treated your body with the most respect I was capable of and I tried with all my heart to make our connection last as it was sacred and valuable to me. I know I did everything that I could, but it was not meant to be. I am sure that someday it will all make sense. I cherish my memories of being intimate with you. They live on in my heart.