Phantom Pain

         I was terrified. I'd spent all afternoon getting ready; straightening my hair, doing my makeup, shaving my legs...I wanted you to see what you were losing. I wanted you to regret it. On the way there, the fear grew and grew until it was shaking out of my fingertips. We parked the car and I couldn't tell whether I wanted to cry or vomit. You texted me that you were there and I almost fell to my knees right then, but my mom reassured me that it would be fine. It was just you.

         We rounded the corner of the church and there you were, on the steps looking as handsome as I knew you would. You had on grey pants that suited you very nicely and your hair had grown and was beginning to curl at the nape of your neck and all I could think about was running my fingers through it, but I knew that it was no longer mine to touch.

         We greeted each other and entered the church. I was trying my hardest not to be awkward, not to overthink every word that came out of my mouth, but that proved difficult the more I talked to you. After we were seated, the pressure lessened. We were surrounded by people I'd know my whole life. It was my territory. I attempted to talk to everyone but you, to ease my mind and make it seem as though I wasn't focused entirely on how your beard was so nicely trimmed and how your eyes made me feel when they were on me. No, I needed a distraction.

         Half way through the ceremony, I was nervously picking at my cuticles; a bad habit you knew indicated when I was uncomfortable. You swatted at my hands to get me to stop. I did, but then I continued. I'm not sure why, maybe I knew what was coming. You swatted at them again but this time instead of taking your hand away, you grabbed mine. That was all I needed for all my worries to float away. Your hand on mine, no matter how awkward our hands were resting or whose hand was sweating on whose. Just the feel of our skin together made every emotion well up inside of me until all I could feel was calm. It wasn't awkward after that.

         We drove to the reception together. You gave me my birthday present, a fancy sketchbook, the pens you had that I coveted, and a candle. You still knew me too well. As the first ones at the reception, we weren't sure what to do so we got wine and sat at our tables. I'm not sure what happened between this point and the kiss, but in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter. Every time your hand touched my back, no matter how lightly, I felt it through my entire body. Every sense I have was tingling just by your touch and then, you kissed me. I was surprised and reminded you how you said no kissing. You corrected me by saying, "I said kissing would make things complicated, not that we couldn't do it. I haven't stopped loving you." Your words are bullets and your mouth the loaded gun.

         We sat at a table with my mom and my friends' parents who I've known my whole life. All eyes and ears were on you. You have such a way of captivating an audience with your wittiness and friendliness. I wish you would give yourself more credit for this. You made the whole table fall in love with you within 5 minutes of meeting them, and with them, I fell even deeper.

         Throughout the whole reception I knew that it would eventually be over and you would be driving home, although I had offered a bed at my grandma's house where my mom and I would be staying. You had politely declined as I had expected you would. That's just how you are, but God, did I want you to change your mind. I wouldn't have put so much effort into shaving my legs if I knew that I didn't have a hint of a chance at convincing you to stay.

         We danced with my friends, them asking if you were the "boyfriend" I always talked about and me having to reply awkwardly with "Yeah, kind of." We still had fun, never the less and then the time came when my mom asked me how late I wanted to stay. I've known what that means since I was old enough to understand social gatherings. It meant my mom wanted to leave but she didn't want to feel bad for taking me away earlier than I wanted to. So I told you it was time to go. We both knew it was coming eventually and I was dreading it, but I can only speak for myself. We went around and said our goodbyes and then started the walk to the cars.

         My mom knew, so she said her goodbyes to you and let me walk you to your car alone. Once there, we couldn't help it, our mouths collided and before I knew it your hand was up the back of my dress and I was pulling you as close as I could get you, something I had been dying to do all night.

         You didn't want to be "that guy." The ex-boyfriend who stays the night, but I did my best to convince you and it worked. You wanted to come over and I was on an all time high. I told you my grandma's house was only 10 minutes away, knowing it was a lie, but if I had told you the truth, that it was really 30, you might have changed your mind. Once we got there, we spent some time situating things until I finally said good night to my mom and you and I went to the basement to set up a bed.

         I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what you had in mind. Did you just want to sleep next to me one last time? Or was there something else? So I grabbed some pillows and blankets and you took off your dress shirt and sat on the bed. You asked if I was going to change out of my dress but I knew how much you liked dresses so I kept it on, knowing how it made you feel. I sat down next to you and began kissing you.

         After a while, I still wasn't sure how to proceed. Did you want me as badly as I wanted you? I could feel my hunger for you growing and finally, I didn't care enough to think about what you wanted, I knew what I wanted. You didn't fight me on it. Soon, your pants were off, like I knew they would be. You were going to take my dress off when you stopped and said you wanted to try something first. You turned me around and pressed your body against mine, kissing my neck sending a hum through my whole body while your hand wandered. I couldn't help it and a moan escaped my lips, which I quickly stifled as I knew we were not alone in the house.

         After that, we eventually ended up laying, me on my stomach, you on top of me, a position we had both grown to love. Everything you said sent a jolt of electricity through me, whether it was you telling me you wanted me or a sighed curse word. I wanted you so badly, my heart was welling up with emotions, want, need, love, lust. They were all there at once. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and I had to have you inside of me and so I did. There are no words to explain how extraordinary it feels to make love to someone you love with all of your heart. In that moment, I knew you were the one. That you were always the one and you probably always will be.

         Like always, we couldn't contain ourselves, we couldn't stop. Eventually we calmed enough to just lay together, skin on skin, facing each other. I was stroking your face and hair and you had your eyes closed. You told me you loved me and that you were sorry that you had to break things off. I told you I loved you too, so much, and not to feel guilty at all. You did what had to be done.

         After a few more moments like that, we decided to turn off the lights. It became pitch black and I tried to guide you back to the bed with my voice. Once you made it back, I clung to you trying to reassure myself that I would never have to let you go. The feel of your skin on mine was the most powerful feeling. I felt every inch of it so intensely like nothing I'd ever felt before. I never wanted to move. I savored every moment, until I drifted off to the sound of your breathing.

         I don't think I have ever hated a sound as much as I hated the sound of the alarm that morning. It signaled the end. I rolled over and wrapped my body around yours, trying to get as close as I could, maybe I could just meld into you, then you wouldn't leave me. We stayed like this for a while. You told me that you wished I could go back and stay with you, that you wanted to keep me there for yourself but that was selfish. I would have thought it was selfish too if I didn't want so badly for it to happen. I hate the way my love for you has made me doubt everything I've ever wanted to do just to be with you.

         Eventually we untangled, got dressed and headed upstairs. You seemed to want to leave right away, which made sense. Dragging it out more than we already had would have been harder. You gave my mom a hug and she told you to keep in touch to which you replied, "Of course," then I walked you out to your car.

         There was no way I could convince you to stay this time. I held myself together while we said our goodbyes and our final "I love yous" and it wasn't until I got back inside that every piece of me broke apart and I fell into my mom's arms. You were gone. I didn't know when I would see you again, if I would see you again. Every part of me just went limp then numb and the sobs wracked my body like waves on the shore. I've never felt this much love and joy and sadness at the same time.

         Everybody says that heartbreak is painful, that they feel as if they're being stabbed, a punch in the gut, anything. I don't feel pain. I just feel discomfort. I feel like an actual piece of me is missing but I can't find what it is. It feels like the phantom pain described by amputees who have lost a limb but they can still feel sensations as if it's still there. That's how this feels. Phantom pain.