He touches me and the cool skin pressed against my back always makes me flinch. I feel beautiful when he stares at me, when he caresses me, and swings me over so our eyes meet, and our lips ever-so-slightly touch. My heart flutters, my breath—despite trying; becomes ragged, and my thoughts bounce so quickly in my mind I can't think of anything straight.

He makes me feel so wonderful it's hard to believe it's real, and so in those little moments where thought is possible I find myself abruptly pulling away. I want to believe I need this man. I need to feel as though without him I wouldn't be able to function completely. I want so badly to believe in my own lies. It doesn't seem possible to not be with him, and yet a gut feeling telling me I'm in denial presses against my heart during every hug, every laugh, every smile, and every kiss.

I want to believe that I need him to get through a day, that I need him for advice, for help, and for comfort. I need to believe that or else I'm suddenly consumed with guilt as I stare into his eyes and say those three little words that already seem so foreign to my lips.

I lie next to him, and again feel the same bliss I did before. Every worry melts into oblivion, and I am whole again. His fingers glide against my skin and every hair stands on edge. His lips press against my shoulder, and a jolt of energy runs through my veins. His fingertips gently run against my chest, and around the nape of my neck, and down to the navel where I can't help but laugh. Too ticklish. His rough laugher sends shrills down my spine as it fills the room, and I know my reaction has doomed me to laugh again.

I trust him as his arms wrap around my body. I know him and lying like this—so close, so peaceful; hearing our breathing in unison, our minds opened as though every reflection is written plainly on the walls—feel as though we are one. Complete perfection; nothing can ruin this. I wish I could freeze this moment and spend eternity in his arms. Listening to him breath, and staying so close to him I never have to fear being cold again. I want to know which one of us is the beauty and which one is the beast.

The night is peaceful and nothing is wrong as we lay in the silence. But I know all too well that everything good eventually comes to an end. My thoughts return like a wave of concern, and washes over me pulling me under. And yet; I know I'm okay because he still has me. Even if I were to drown at least he would be with me; at least I wouldn't drown alone. He seems to know this; he looks into my eyes and reads me like an open book. He sighs at my pathetic fears, my stack of useless worries, and futile dreads.

He seems sure of himself as his grip tightens around me. I get the sense that he too knows and understands that he isn't a necessity. And in a bleak instant he and I could no longer be. I see this as I stare into his eyes, the infection I gave him by being too distant. He cherishes every moment as much as I have, but not for the same reasons. I can't do much to comfort him, so I brush my fingers through his hair, and down across his cheek and try to push away his ill thoughts. I want so badly to say it to him. That everything will is perfect and we will never fault. That even though we're so use to seeing gray skies we will inevitably start to see blue.

I lace my fingers around his. I want to say so much, I want to assure him that nothing will pull us apart. But a voice keeps me from doing so. I choke on my own words. It says not to give false hope, not to say something I don't truly mean. And again I am taken aback; punched in the stomach by my own pitiful self. So I stay staring torn between what seems to be right and what I know is right.

I feel selfish keeping him here with me. I—the sinking ship, cannot stand to take down its passengers just because it decided not to float. I can't stand him looking this way, feeling as though every moment we're together could be his last. He deserves better. I'm tainting his white wings, staining them gray, which will eventually consume them whole and turn them black. I can't show him how I feel; I can't let him know how much it's tearing me apart to hold everything I feel about him back. But this sacrifice I believe is for the best.

He rubs my sides, and I find myself pulling away. I know what he's thinking; what did I do wrong? I want to shout NOTHING! It's just me. It's just me….I'm sorry….but I remain silent. I give him the coldness he doesn't deserve. Hoping he will see that it's a winless battle, and that we're not meant to be. Hoping he will see for once the damaged goods in front of him.

I love you. He whispers. A flood of emotions slice through me like shards of glass. No. this isn't what was meant to happen. I hate feeling tortured when I know I'm doing it to myself. Why can't you let me go? I turn to him, and somehow his hands find their way to my face, and he grips my cheeks and stares directly into my eyes.

I love you. I want to say it back. My mouth trembles, and it becomes hard to breath. Why does he do this? Like a willing sheep that flaunts itself in front of a pack of hungry wolves. I feel as though I'm pulling him down into the bottomless pit with me. I don't understand why he's so willing to jump to join me.

I love you. He kisses me on my neck. I love you. He kisses me on my chest. I love you. He continues….whispering as he pushes me down against my bed. The sheets wrap around me. And his hands press against my hips.

Why can't you see that? I love you. You'll never push me away because I am yours heart, body and soul. I am forever yours. I can't say anything. I'm mute. I can feel him touch me. I can feel his breath upon my neck, and his hair brushing against my forehead.

He falls down next to me, not giving me a chance to move he wraps his arms around me again. His hand glides against my skin again, over and over and I find myself closing my eyes.

I want so badly to say it to him. But I know now that he'll wait. He'll stay until I'm able to say it, and even after he'll stay. I want to believe he is the angel sent to rescue me. He is the man that can watch me fall apart and still find it beautiful. I smile; knowing he can't see. The tears trail along my cheeks and disappear somewhere onto the sheets underneath. He brings his hand up on my shoulder, and slides it against my back down to my leg. Everything disappears as he touches me. I can breathe. And for another moment I am lost in a blissful unawareness of anything other than him and me. He makes me feel so strong and invincible. I don't deserve him. And yetI want to prove myself to him. I want to prove that he chose right.

I love you. I say in my mind unable to say it in words.

Give me time.