This post is about him, the one who saved me for so many times. I have decided to write it in English, as my husband has a different nationality.
I met him after my mother died, when my heart was broken. He grabbed pieces of it and started to put them back together with his tenderness, love and care. I have never met that kind of love before. He took my hand and we set foot on a magical land, far away from all the cruelty and suffering. His touches were soft, his kisses were consuming, full of hunger and the look in his eyes, full of passion. He has blue eyes, perfect, cloudless sky blue.
His back is firm, his shoulders wide, he looks strong but he is one of the most sensitive person I’ve met. He knew I was disturbed, but he took me like this, under his wings and tried constantly to fix me.
We’ve spent hundreds of evenings, just the two of us, in narrow rooms, beautiful music and embracements. I like, even now, to rest my head on his chest and dream of better days.
He is intelligent, funny and supportive and most of all, he is mine. He is part of me and he never let go of my hand, on the hardest of my times.
Once we were coming back home after chemotherapy, and I had to tell him:
– If something ever happens to me, I want you to know that I loved you the most.
He said it won’t and that we will grow old together, that this is our fight and I am not alone. And I believed him.
He is the one that once made me feel completely alive and my heart full of fire, and even if we were many times broken, I know that he will make me feel like that again. We have our own desires, dreams and even song.
Is is getting better or do you feel the same?
I know it will…