6’3, skin like warm liquid chocolate, both at a glance and at the touch. beautiful. body sculpted as if The Creator Himself had sculpted it for her eyes alone to appreciate. her kind of art. sculpted in such a way that He knew what set her soul alight before she ever did.
unending conversation for days, yes, not hours but days. conversation that was so easy it was as if her mind was having a long dialogue with itself. as if he and her had practised some kind of perfect script in some former lifetime. the laughter in right on cue, the awkward moments also perfectly placed, and even the arguments twistedly at the right moments during their souls’ acquainting. perfect.
their interests so similar, yet similarly different – converging and diverging, like a pattern made by intertwining two wave patterns. meeting tightly at one point that when they part you can longer tell which wave had been which before.
his kisses that left her light headed, with imaginary bubbles rising to the top of her dome like bubbles in a glass of champagne – bubbly and airy and light. excited. she felt excited. soft kisses from his marshmallow lips – soft, smooth marshmallows.. exciting.
his kisses kissed her soul with his soul, and that’s what mattered most for them – the kiss of the soul. the soul to soul kiss that would complete them. but before they could merge completely her soul would swallow itself whole and they would be torn apart. she, torn by the world, and frustrated by her life’s destinationless journey, she could not begin to imagine attempting to journey with him when she couldn’t master travelling alone. he, completely competent at living life, and she dead weight.
he, so willing, so ready for her. completely in that space, in that state of mind, but there alone because she didnt know where she was or where she was going. she was lost, and her compass couldnt tell her where to go when she didnt know where she was. and he, he couldnt bring her to the place to complete their perfect harmony when she couldn’t begin to tell him where she was, or even sing in tune.
so she continued to wander alone, hoping she’d find a path that she could finally use to find her place on the map. hoping that maybe somehow someday if he they were still as right for each other as they were then, that she could tell him where she was, and hopefully it would be the same place he was in. and then. maybe, just maybe if they were still right, he could be her Mr Right. But he couldnt be her Mr. Right, not now.