I can’t ever forget the taste of another’s lips. At least I should hope not. It’s not the kind of thing I’d want to forget. The velvety touch like pressing one’s lips to a softy opening rose bud, the smoothness of that particularly sensitive skin and flesh, the almost imperceptible sweetness, the heat from his body. He caught my breath… and also let me breathe for the first time.

I don’t know whether or not there’s anyone better than him, and now I almost wish I would never know. Ever since him, I’ve wanted him more than anyone else. Nobody else could ever hold me in those arms that were so strong and so soft. Could the weight of another’s body on top of mine ever equate to his? Occasionally a thing will remind me of him – a kind word, a color, a smell… a smell…

The scent is perhaps the worst. Humans so rarely use their sense of smell. We become so familiar with our environments that our noses seem to deaden to them. But once you acquire your lover’s mark, you will never forget it. Their pheromones, their sweat – they rub off on your body and seep into your clothes like a musky oil. The residue of love is a sweetest perfume, better than the most expensive incense in Persia, as addictive as any drug and twice as intoxicating. In the moments away, you stop to breath it in from your clothes. If you’re smart, you’ve taken to wearing a fleece jacket around him so that you don’t have to wash it out and you can hold onto it… at least a little longer.

Every wonderful minute of time together is something to cling to. Not the tiniest second is inconsequential. Even the time we just spent looking into each other’s eyes, the time we took in the details of each other’s countenance, the wasted moments of lying motionless in one another’s arms – there wasn’t one that wasn’t precious. Each was a pearl contentment and joy.

The separation is almost too much to bear. It’s a kind of ever widening gap – a perversity of nature like a tree caught in a reverse aging process, rings disappearing one by one from the inside-out. We are two stoppers within an airtight tube, and the farther we’re pulled apart, the more we wish to close the intervening vacuum. It’s an ache within my heart. An empty nebula waiting for us to collide and create a spectacular, radiant star in our wake.

I’m so glad that it was him. From so many of my friends, I’ve heard the same story: “I wish I’d chosen my first time more carefully.” But I’m confident that I will never have that mistake. He was the right person. I will never forget him. By the goodness of God I will be with him again. It is my future that I should one day look back to my first with the same fondness that I will look upon his very countenance. Grace of the Lord, we were meant to be with one another. Every pain we’ve suffered through, from the most fleeting to those that have ripped at our hearts, have in the end brought us closer. They have refined us, smoothed our rough edges, chipped and cut away at us, and molded us into a better fit for each other. Every pain and anger has settled – settled into each other like interlocking pieces.

I love him always. I love him flesh and spirit. I love him heart and humor. I love him man and animal. I love him mind and body. I love him in every way a human can love. Justice give us Peace. Mercy let our Love endure. Wisdom permit us stay within each other’s Hearts for Eternity. Oh sweet Time that has been granted to us, Praise of God never cease for the Love that has been given to me. Worthy of such love I am not, but gratitude will I forever return for such a precious gift. Amen.