Would I be able to live without his hand on my tummy or around my hips? Without kissing and licking a wound on his hip that would take weeks to heal, but away from me now? Whom else would I ever be able to call by my name? There would be others, of course, and others after others, but calling them by my name in a moment of passion would feel like a derived thrill, an affectation.
I know it sounds fake but you really do have a lot of silent lovers on this planet who look at you and wish they had your smile or your hair color or your humor or your intellect or your intentions or your heart, your manners, your eyes, your ease, even just you. People who are too shy to tell you what they admire about you or what they wish for you or who they see themselves becoming bc of you & they’re too shy to tell you. even tho it isn’t verbalized, the universe has still heard and the universe has loved you for helping out on its creations. You’re that person. You’re you.
i hope u find someone that mindlessly plays with your hands and lightly strokes your legs and massages your back and plays with your hair and i hope that u feel like you’re home when u look at them
