Saudade’s Relief or Not

I still smell of this person, two days later. The way I got drunk on their scent. The way I held onto them. Way I studied every curve, dip, and angle on their face as they slept. The way I beamed under the glow of their praises, endearments – my queen, my woman, my baby, my Lis – and gratitude. The way I felt their head, kissed their temple, traced their brow, listened to their sounds – including those which I endearingly term ‘baby dragon noises’ & voice. For you see, I had woken the other night longing to hear their laugh, and I had panicked and cried the other day because I could not dredge up a clear mental picture of their face. The way I felt their supple skin, how I longed to kiss their lips as thick as mine yet was tethered by the chains of suspicion.

A suspicion that if I melted into them, it’d break me worse than the last time. The suspicion that where I belong might have been filled up, a fear that was bits of many things. A suspicion that led me to tell a ridiculous lie that served no purpose but stir the pot of jealousy and anger. However, melt into them, I did. I hoped and prayed to all the Gods that my suspicion was only unfounded paranoia. The way I drank them in. Every brush, breath, kiss, bite, stroke, vicelike grip, word. I was filled with such great joy, yet fear held me prisoner. The way their touch made me feel alive; seen; home! The way I clung to their hand in the Bolt ride…by Jove, I’m damn near gone. I don’t know if I am in love with this man yet. Could I have been all this time & been clueless? I don’t know. As I sit on my friend’s couch, rubbing mindlessly at the pleasant pain from a bite of his, I hope Saturday wasn’t for naught because I know I have learned my hard lessons. I know I am flawed but improved, and I know I am willing to do better to nurture this happiness.

–Melissa