2 years anniversary
As the days pass by, the memory gets dimmer and dimmer. She has tried every bit of her will not to think too much of it, in fear of reckoning how much happiness, how much laughter and how much love she has left behind. But the thoughts of him have always lingered there, in her spirit and in her soul and especially in her heart. Those sneaky, invisible threads of blended bitterness and honeymoon, loneliness and warmth, tears and joy, they always manage their way into her whole self. Sometimes she feels too weary to move on even for one more brief moment of her life, but most of the time she knows they are the food to her soul, the fire to her desires and the energy to her hopes. Without them, she would have been nothing but a lonely barren kid, keeping things to herself for most of her time. Without them, she would have never remembered to value happiness that much, never realized how beautiful a genuinely happy smile could be, never felt the heartbeats so lively and excitedly.
The days are long… And six-month is a seamless term, too far out in the future for her to bear. She would exchange anything to feel his warmth and touch his gentle hands again, yet waiting six months is all she can do and have to do, and that seems way too much. She fears the loneliness embedded inside of her, and it hurts so much realizing that her heart is somewhere almost half an earth away. Safely kept, she knows, as she is clutching tightly his in her, but still… She wishes, every second of every minute of every day, that it did not have to be like this… She misses every bit of him, and time – the cruelest thing in this whole world to her – makes her longings a thousand times worse.
She first met him also around this time of the year, 2 years ago. And so their second anniversary will arrive shortly, she thinks. 2 years of knowing each other and having each other as a vital part in their life, yet she cannot help but wondering sometimes – how much they have known each other? With a total of only less than 3 months of actually seeing each other out of those 2 years, that is not a poorly posed question after all. She used to think they know each other well enough, but two weeks with him were all it took for her to realize what they have known of their partner was far from enough. That is why she craves for more, for the chances to spend her time with him, to see more of the men he has grown into over the last two years, to learn of the gentle, little boy he used to be through the stories of his mother – a woman she has grown to be so fond of. Over those blissful two weeks, she had seen a lot of him, much more than she could have ever imagined and it made her pride of him grow stronger than ever. What she had seen was a man grown, yet a boy still. He was gentle, not only to her but to everybody around. His love for his mom, his respect of his dad and his companionship to his brother and friends was as obvious as daylight. He was friendly even to strangers, one thing she has never expected of a Dane from all the facts and stereotypes she has read of them. He’s different from them, and very well raised, she had proudly thought. And he was so gentle to the kids and especially polite and nice and helpful with the elders. She had seen him picking up a ball rolling out of reach of small girl falling off of her little bike crying painfully and returned it to her mother with sincere affection. She had seen him immersing himself into a non-stop conversation with an elderly lady he just met, him making her laugh and bringing joy to her dinner… All those things of him, she has never had a proper chance to see before. They made her look back at herself thinking, I should learn this from him to make a better person out of me.
Undoubtedly, there were also moment when he made her upset and sent her alone to his bedroom sulky and saddened. He was too obsessed with his gaming and computer and stupid things like that. She felt left out, forgotten, and alone again. But it did not take him long to realize she had been away from his sight, and as he came into the bedroom he found her lying there not talking nor smiling to him. He was sensitive enough to realize what went wrong, and he started making up for it, telling her the sweetest and most honest, most gentle words she could wish to hear, his hand running through her long black hair and his kisses landing tenderly on her forehead. She almost felt guilty for ignoring him like that, and wished she had had less pride in herself just to tell him back that she loved him fervently and insanely as well, and that her act had been nothing but a childish attempt to draw his attention towards her. She could see how upset it had struck him seeing her sulky and smile-less like that, and she promised herself not to ever do that to him again as they hugged tightly as if they would never let go of each other. And the make-up kisses came afterwards, still sweet and passionate.
And… of all the time spending with him, she would especially miss the love-making. It sends blushes to her face mentioning this, but she would never betray the fact that having sex with him is the most rightful thing she has ever done in her life. Wrong and unacceptable to many other people - her parents for sure, and her culture, the tradition, whatever - but tradition is old and conservative while parents are too proud and full of worries. Her sister has once said to her that, as long as she remains happy, the rest is not so important. She holds immense gratitude to that, and her sister, because every time she feels guilty about lying to her parents, she lets her happiness of sharing his bed overcome her guilt. And it’s not only happiness that she feels lying naked by his side, it is also the warmth of his body against her, the softness and smoothness of his skin, the tenderness of his touches and the passion in his kisses, the feeling of being whole again, of perfection and genuine content. She could relive his rushing breathings at her ears as she was lying on top of him; he barely made any sounds other than that. And when he was moving inside her, his breathing got faster and faster, and became so distinctive as he reached his climax that she would love to experience that over and over again. He always tried to pleasure her the same way she knew she has pleasured him, and sometimes they were lucky enough she could have an orgasm as well, so amazingly sweet she could burst out or melt away. What she did when the intense pleasure surged through her whole body was to clutch his hair so tight it started to hurt him, hiding her face below his neck while squirming and screaming in silence. Sometimes when they were all alone in the apartment, she lets herself moan and make sobbing-like sounds, especially when he thrust deeply and intensely inside her…
There are still so many things she loves about him. She loves the way he looks at her, “as if you want to bite her” – his mother once commented. She loves his sensitivity, his wit, his tenderness. She loves his big broad smile, and the sound of his laugh which makes her feel extremely happy. She loves how he would know it instantly and instinctively when she feels the need for a long tight hug, and she loves the way he would spread his arms wide open before dragging her straight into it, as if saying, you are mine now. She loves lying on the couch watching movies with his arms around her, she loves cooking with him, eating with him, travelling with him and talking silly things with him. And she would love - more than anything else in the whole world – to be actually with him someday, spending her life with him, and never be apart from him, ever. She hopes the day will come as they have planned for it and have been waiting for it. And then, the first day of the rest of her life will begin. /.
The days are long… And six-month is a seamless term, too far out in the future for her to bear. She would exchange anything to feel his warmth and touch his gentle hands again, yet waiting six months is all she can do and have to do, and that seems way too much. She fears the loneliness embedded inside of her, and it hurts so much realizing that her heart is somewhere almost half an earth away. Safely kept, she knows, as she is clutching tightly his in her, but still… She wishes, every second of every minute of every day, that it did not have to be like this… She misses every bit of him, and time – the cruelest thing in this whole world to her – makes her longings a thousand times worse.
She first met him also around this time of the year, 2 years ago. And so their second anniversary will arrive shortly, she thinks. 2 years of knowing each other and having each other as a vital part in their life, yet she cannot help but wondering sometimes – how much they have known each other? With a total of only less than 3 months of actually seeing each other out of those 2 years, that is not a poorly posed question after all. She used to think they know each other well enough, but two weeks with him were all it took for her to realize what they have known of their partner was far from enough. That is why she craves for more, for the chances to spend her time with him, to see more of the men he has grown into over the last two years, to learn of the gentle, little boy he used to be through the stories of his mother – a woman she has grown to be so fond of. Over those blissful two weeks, she had seen a lot of him, much more than she could have ever imagined and it made her pride of him grow stronger than ever. What she had seen was a man grown, yet a boy still. He was gentle, not only to her but to everybody around. His love for his mom, his respect of his dad and his companionship to his brother and friends was as obvious as daylight. He was friendly even to strangers, one thing she has never expected of a Dane from all the facts and stereotypes she has read of them. He’s different from them, and very well raised, she had proudly thought. And he was so gentle to the kids and especially polite and nice and helpful with the elders. She had seen him picking up a ball rolling out of reach of small girl falling off of her little bike crying painfully and returned it to her mother with sincere affection. She had seen him immersing himself into a non-stop conversation with an elderly lady he just met, him making her laugh and bringing joy to her dinner… All those things of him, she has never had a proper chance to see before. They made her look back at herself thinking, I should learn this from him to make a better person out of me.
Undoubtedly, there were also moment when he made her upset and sent her alone to his bedroom sulky and saddened. He was too obsessed with his gaming and computer and stupid things like that. She felt left out, forgotten, and alone again. But it did not take him long to realize she had been away from his sight, and as he came into the bedroom he found her lying there not talking nor smiling to him. He was sensitive enough to realize what went wrong, and he started making up for it, telling her the sweetest and most honest, most gentle words she could wish to hear, his hand running through her long black hair and his kisses landing tenderly on her forehead. She almost felt guilty for ignoring him like that, and wished she had had less pride in herself just to tell him back that she loved him fervently and insanely as well, and that her act had been nothing but a childish attempt to draw his attention towards her. She could see how upset it had struck him seeing her sulky and smile-less like that, and she promised herself not to ever do that to him again as they hugged tightly as if they would never let go of each other. And the make-up kisses came afterwards, still sweet and passionate.
And… of all the time spending with him, she would especially miss the love-making. It sends blushes to her face mentioning this, but she would never betray the fact that having sex with him is the most rightful thing she has ever done in her life. Wrong and unacceptable to many other people - her parents for sure, and her culture, the tradition, whatever - but tradition is old and conservative while parents are too proud and full of worries. Her sister has once said to her that, as long as she remains happy, the rest is not so important. She holds immense gratitude to that, and her sister, because every time she feels guilty about lying to her parents, she lets her happiness of sharing his bed overcome her guilt. And it’s not only happiness that she feels lying naked by his side, it is also the warmth of his body against her, the softness and smoothness of his skin, the tenderness of his touches and the passion in his kisses, the feeling of being whole again, of perfection and genuine content. She could relive his rushing breathings at her ears as she was lying on top of him; he barely made any sounds other than that. And when he was moving inside her, his breathing got faster and faster, and became so distinctive as he reached his climax that she would love to experience that over and over again. He always tried to pleasure her the same way she knew she has pleasured him, and sometimes they were lucky enough she could have an orgasm as well, so amazingly sweet she could burst out or melt away. What she did when the intense pleasure surged through her whole body was to clutch his hair so tight it started to hurt him, hiding her face below his neck while squirming and screaming in silence. Sometimes when they were all alone in the apartment, she lets herself moan and make sobbing-like sounds, especially when he thrust deeply and intensely inside her…
There are still so many things she loves about him. She loves the way he looks at her, “as if you want to bite her” – his mother once commented. She loves his sensitivity, his wit, his tenderness. She loves his big broad smile, and the sound of his laugh which makes her feel extremely happy. She loves how he would know it instantly and instinctively when she feels the need for a long tight hug, and she loves the way he would spread his arms wide open before dragging her straight into it, as if saying, you are mine now. She loves lying on the couch watching movies with his arms around her, she loves cooking with him, eating with him, travelling with him and talking silly things with him. And she would love - more than anything else in the whole world – to be actually with him someday, spending her life with him, and never be apart from him, ever. She hopes the day will come as they have planned for it and have been waiting for it. And then, the first day of the rest of her life will begin. /.
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