It’s a beautiful sunny day. We are both naked in the middle of rolling green fields. Everything is warm and comforting. I feel like a 70s flower child.
My body is unshaven. He doesn’t mind. I can’t tell if I’m male or female. It doesn’t matter. I am not my body.
I cling to him. I never want to let him go. This moment is perfect. I am on my back, underneath him. I don’t mind.
I kiss him over and over. I haven’t seen him in months. I feel the wetness of our mouths. I kiss his neck. I taste his sweat.
He smells exactly the way I remember. Fresh. Like cologne and soap. That doesn’t sound very sexy or romantic, but I love the way he smells. Clean.
I remember seeing his blonde hair and feeling at peace. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, petting his golden hair. I am on top.
I pay more attention to him than the sex. For once, sex is secondary in importance. I just want him.
I feel like I am home. This is where I always wish to be.
I worry that he doesn’t really want to be with me. Maybe he is just appeasing me. Maybe he doesn’t want to spend time with me and that is why he is always gone.
My wards fight me. I am blind most of the time and only rely on my other senses. Someone doesn’t want me to be with him. I feel sad because I know I won’t see him again for months.