Chapter 7 : H I M

C H R I S T I A N

I watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful. So young. So beautiful.
I softly run my fingers through his tangled hair.

Our lovemaking today was different.
So familiar, and yet so much as if it was our first time. Infused with so much longing, so much love, so much promise. Our bodies, even after all this time apart, remembered just how to move and how to fit. He never took his eyes off me. And I know that I will never be able to look away from him again.

I touch his cheek, caressing the soft skin with my fingertips, and trace his beautiful features.
He genuinely takes my breath away. Us being here – together – takes my breath away.

It amazes me that I could ever feel this way. This was never going to happen to me. I wasn't looking for love. I was perfectly happy. Or so I told myself. After the first time, I told myself that he was just another conquest, that if it never happened again, that would have been perfectly fine. I could have lived on happily. At least, that's what I tried to make myself believe. I was just fooling myself.

As if what I'd seen in his eyes that night, as if what I had sensed in his touches, and felt in his kisses, wasn't telling me all I needed to know. As if what I felt that night, holding him to me for the first time, wasn't so unique and unforgettable, that I would never be the same again.

Somehow, somewhere, in the back of my mind, in my heart, I knew then that this kind, soft-spoken, gorgeous man would change how I viewed the world, how I thought my life would turn out to be.

Looking into those familiar brown eyes again today, and seeing all that love in them, I realized just how much he has changed my life. Changed me.
He loves me. I am his soul mate, and he is mine. I feel closer to him than ever. We are meant to be together.

I look at him, asleep in my arms, and I want to pinch myself.
He's here with me. Here to stay.

I must be the luckiest man alive.
He chose me.