Inspired Inklings

You know, I had originally planned to frame this in a story. To mask my thoughts with quotes and narrative so that I could distance myself from this and its critique. But you know what? I'm tired of hiding. Part of being a writer (I think, at least) is knowing when to step back and write just for yourself sometimes. So here it is: a completely raw, honest look inside my head as I see it:

How do you know you're in love with a man?

You know you're in love with a man when you find yourself laying beside him, gently running your fingers through his hair watching as each strand folds under the pressure of your hand and springs back up again, poised and ready to be petted again; and you smile because you realize what a great head of hair he has and wishes he didn't cut it as often so you could appreciate moments like this all the time.

You know you're in love with a man when you begin to move your hand down to his face; carefully outlining his lips with your thumb, feeling the soft brush of his mouth against your finger and you sigh because you realize how gentle his kisses can be when placed upon your forehead, yet fiery and passionate when planted on your lips.

You know you're in love with a man your hand begins to turn and your palm scrapes against his chin and jawline; feeling the stubble he hasn't shaved yet because you surprised him by coming over so early (though you would have called ahead of time so he could properly prepare but you just wanted to see him so badly, you rushed right over without a second thought) and you realize he's perfect just as he is still in the t-shirt he wore yesterday and with bedhead.

You know you're in love with a man when he begins to stir from all your touches; when he smiles without opening his eyes and sighs, "Hey honey"; when he outstretches his arms to beckon you closer and you realize in his arms is exactly where you want to be.

You know you're in love with a man when you place yourself beside him so that your curves contour to his shape and he takes you in his arms and pulls you closer; and you realize your heart is beating faster.

You know you're in love with a man when he begins to slide his hands under your shirt, one over your bellybutton and the other rests on your chest, and you realize it doesn't matter whether you're sleeping in a big bed or on an old futon: this is the best position to fall asleep in.

You know you're in love with a man when you begin to drift to sleep yourself; when walls of the apartment fade away with each breath and you realize there is only one breath in the entire room: the two of you, together.

You know you're in love with a man when the rise and fall of his chest against your back in time with yours is like a gentle lullaby and the warm breath on your neck like a soft blanket enveloping you in security; and you realize this is how you wish to fall asleep every night for the rest of your life.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.