I want to feel your hands massaging me, your breath close to my face, your eyes looking into mine, your lips lightly on my neck, then my collar bone, my cheek, and lips. I want to feel the weight of you pressed against me. I want your fingers running through my hair. I want you to hold me tight, be rough. Pull my hair. Bite my lip. Again. Again. Again.
You told me I would regret it, that it would be the biggest mistakes. But you know what? It was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I am a better person for it. You are my regret. You are my mistake.
But I really am fine. And I actually mean it this time.
