Perfect Like a Dream

He picked me up, like every Saturday. I felt more attracted to him than before, like it was burning inside of me, like if there was something in his body that called me, that screamed at me, like it begged for a touch, for a kiss, for something more than the usual. We loved and wanted each other in a way people would see, but ignored. I knew he was desperate, but he seemed calmed. He told me everything he wanted in sweetest of silences. Our hands touched, our lips rushed and slowly we discovered the true desire we had in the half an hour drive to the place where it all happened. It was the most interesting drive of my life, of his life, and the best prologue to the novel of or growth.
We arrived, and then it all change. Our feelings turned stronger. Kisses were stronger. He touched my back and grabbed my waist; he knew that was my favorite. Then he delicately kissed my neck and I have to admit I was so high, because his kiss was so soft and warm and filled with love that I felt like in a journey of love and discovery. He walks while kissing me, leading me to his room. Every step he took was so determined and so sure of everything, but I know he’s scared like I am too even though that was what I wanted. He filled me with confidence and with a feeling of power that anyone would get scared of. With his delicate hands, he opened the door and keep walking, but this time towards the bed. He had red curtains and his room could not feel more like home.
He put me in bed, this time his hands were free to do what they wanted. He discovered me like I discovered him. I got him out of his clothes. His sheet felt warm, and it was perfect like in movie or a dream. We got lost between the sheets, we played we laughed, we kissed, we touched, we felt invincible, we made love, yes, it is the right term for what happened there. I have never felt so love in my life, for me it was perfect, almost unreal. Once in my life thought this was wrong, but it happened, and I must admit it was the most beautiful moment of my life.
It is five in the morning of a Wednesday, I wake up without him and then it hits me again, he is not here and I dreamt about him again. Sometimes I feel he’s here, sometimes I see him, sometimes I hear him, and sometimes I feel his breath on my neck or his hand on mi waist. Then I have to continue my day, waiting for the moment I see him again. You may think I’m waiting in vain, but this time I want you to know that he always comes back, he always gets here.