He wraps his arms around my body, wraps his soul around my heart, and I realize we’re meant to save each other. Not in some divine providence way, but in the tiny, constant way that humans always do. It’s a little taste of salvation when he tells me not to apologize for being myself, when he holds me all through the night without once letting go. I get to return the kindness when I really listen to what he has to say, when I decorate his body with kisses like confetti.
I keep thinking I’ve gotten used to being loved, that I can accept it. But he finds a new way every day to steal the breath right out of my lungs, to make my heart seize in surprise and relief. It’s the sweetest agony, to finally be touched like something precious. His hand entwines in mine at every chance we get before I even have to reach for him. His eyes on me are like an open flame, caressing every curve and line of my smile, sinking into my eyes, mapping my skin.
Without any expectations or conditions, he pours love down on me with every breath. It soaks into me like rain in the desert and little broken parts of me begin to grow. My heart burns like an open wound, but I keep peeling the layers back so we can both see it. He holds it so gently in his hands. The wonder and gratitude in his face glows with an absolute promise to keep it safe.
Method of Mancy 