you were home to me

I have wanted to put you into words since the first time we kissed. I have tried unsuccessfully numerous times. I am not even sure now, even after all this time passing that I can put you into letters arranged on a page. You seem to large, still too important to me, too full of life to be reduced to words.

How exactly does one put into words the softness of the place that runs from your thumb to your wrist. The skin that feels like silk, delicate, out of place on those strong hands.  I remember sitting with you on that rooftop bar, sitting there trying not to stare at your lips as you talked. Trying to give you my full attention when all I wanted to do was know the things only your lips could tell. That first time we kissed, all those months ago, that memory, lingered so strongly in the front of my mind but now, right now, being with you, in front of you. It was the way the light from the fire danced in your eyes as you spoke. Your rogueness, your irish boy charm, it flitted & lit up your eyes, opening up the window to your soul as you regaled stories to me. As you cracked open the knowledge of you for me to learn.

Looking back I think I had already fallen for you. Despite not seeing you for months before that night. Nobody has made me laugh as much as you did. No one has ever made me feel as safe as when I was near you. You even had the ability to make me feel safe, to feel wanted, even when I wasn’t near you. Our time together was limited, stolen moments that seemed to be spread out months in between. Regardless I fell for you. I fell for you with each message, with each telephone conversation, with each piece of you I unraveled in the awkward getting to know you exchanges of information.

Still to this day, well over a year since we saw each other, months since we have talked I think of you often. In the moments where my mind is still. I go to that memory of the roof top. The moments spent laying in your bed, my hair splayed on your chest. To the place where my head fit in the crook of your arm, my face moving with the gentle rise and fall of your breath in sync with mine. To your fingers drawing pictures on my back. To falling asleep wrapped up in your arms, knowing there was no safer place in the world for me to be. To staying cocooned like that for what seemed like eternity. To your room in your flat, to not wanting to leave, to you not wanting me to leave. I remember the smile that could not be wiped from my face for days afterwards. To the skip in my heartbeat every time you messaged me in the days to come. To the times when we would see each other again. Each encounter never feeling long enough.

Was it in these moments that I scared you? Was it in those skips of heartbeats that you knew the secret that I thought I held so tightly to my heart. Was it when I left you, that you realised that you felt the same way as me? Was it in those moments that you decided the only thing you could do was walk in the other direction? To just pass these moments off as bad timing?

I wish you had the strength to realise what an incredible thing you had stumbled across. The beautiful happen stance that you walked into that party of strangers and found me standing there. Even now when you haunt my dreams, I cannot help but hope that I am doing the same to you in that very moment. That the things I remember so vividly are not just shared by me. That if you could you would change the choices you made.

Whilst the times I think of you are getting further and further apart. As the images I have of you get less in focus in my memory. I cannot help but think you were absolutely the one that got away. The one that slipped through my fingers, the one whom I had no control of the circumstances of our meeting, of our future. If only you knew that I was not going to leave you, to hurt you, to break you like you had been previously. If only you had given me the chance to show you what real love could be like. One in which all of your insecurities, all of my insecurities are safe. That you were home. That I was home.

I hope you have found a home. I hope someone can be home for you. I hope you are happy. I hope you are making someone laugh so much their insides hurt. I hope now that I have put you into words that I can find my home. That someone can be home with me. Beannacht maith daor cuimhní.

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