slogan love.

The parts of me that no one will ever see again are buried with you. The parts I swore to dedicate to you, and you alone are at bay with you. The parts I couldn't phrase properly, but felt so outstandingly in the depths of my being, those could only ever be with you; the keeper of my weary soul and beloved heart. 

It's funny how things work sometimes. Some people are right when they say "timing is everything." It was obvious now and she hated to admit it, but it was true. Sometimes it was just so hard to believe every little word that people said though. Doubt was something that recurred often in her, but she had managed before and fared pretty well now. She looked at herself in the mirror of the bathroom now, slowly but gradually getting to closer to it. She faced herself, eye to eye in what felt like another warp of her mind, smiling. This was who she was and she fucking hated it. It wasn't normal to feel this godforsaken enamored by someone to the point you'd lose your mind over, do absolutely everything in the world for, expect nothing in return but the tender presence of their being. Ever since the moment she had first hugged her, there was a feeling of familiarity that had taken solace in the depths of her. She would feel it rock back and forth, spreading itself to the parts of her that she would never have control over again. It rooted through the base of her chest, and extended with ease toward her thoughts like it was easy. I started falling the second you turned around, baby. Her lidded gaze held a moment with herself, and for a second she stopped smiling and simply stared.

Why was it so hard to deal with everything right now? How could she ever get close to even thinking about dealing? She wasn't kidding any one, and it's true .. she was in denial. She wasn't really sure why she felt this way, when she had been able to deal so easily before. But I suppose it's simpler when you aren't totally and genuinely in love with someone. It's completely different when you actually love the person. It comes with a whole new world of sensation that will scratch the surfaces of both the mind and body. It comes with the pangs of desperation still sounding in your chest after all those tears that a call at four in the morning made you cry. It comes with the nervous glances at your phone that will only serve to send a jolt of both anxiety and thrill through you  when it does eventually go off. It comes with the sound of sobbing on the other end and the muffled cries you will half choke on. It comes with countless "baby's" and the frantic "I love you's" at the end of every two minutes. It comes with the knot in your throat as you try to catch your breath, and the crying in the nook of your ear as you turn over. It comes with the burrowing feeling of instant  vapidness when the call gets cut short and you try to call back after leaving a voice mail message. It comes with all of this and more, because nothing comes close to the state of being absolutely infatuated and in love with a single soul.

There was nothing that could convince her otherwise of  love. It had chosen her, and though she was terrified of what it had meant, she submitted every bit of herself. Love was the delicate brush her fingers created as they swept over her bare hip to the nether regions of her back. The way that she kissed her when they were in bed, facing each other in the lucid darkness drove her to the end of her nerves. She was the perfect spooning size, and every time she felt her right there behind her, she knew she had found home. Home ceased to be a tangible thing she was supposed to live in; it became the very entity that provided her with the love and warmth she had never found in former versions of home.  It was now a  twenty-two-year-old brunette with the cutest freckles and these gorgeous, big, brown eyes that held her gaze with the utmost precision. She was beautiful; every single part of her was perfect, from the intoxicating scent of her hair to the seemingly small sole of her foot. She was often baffled by how someone so goddamn attractive could have shown interest in her, even though the girl had tried to convince her it was otherwise. You're too good to be true. She wondered then what the love of her life could be doing while she sat on the sink of her bathroom, breaking into a feverish sob that dragged her spirits to the floor.

How could she had been so fucking stupid? She'd been a fool to think she could get past this, and all the bullshit she had single handedly put herself through. At the end of the day she was the one with the most fault, the one with the most baggage, the one who fucked everything up.. She knew what it felt like to sabotage yourself in such a way that you lost everything, and she wasn't exactly thrilled about the fact either. No one knows how bad she would have wanted to go back in time and do everything all over again. She had never been one for epiphanies, but she still couldn't explain to herself how she had managed to grasp the notion that she needed her no matter what. In the midst of a wallowing pool of qualm, she had realized that the girl she was so terribly in love with was what made time take a grudging pace for that half second. She was the reason sunsets always felt so poignant  and the sunrises so tenderhearted. This girl was the one who had managed to successfully get under her skin, and make her feel things she could have never fathomed alone. Her feelings rode the bearings of an addictive tendency, but she reveled in the need for her. It made her feel so astonishingly happy to know she could finally love someone this much and this hard.

Slowly retreating from the sink's support, she saw how the tears streaming her face relentlessly ran her mascara. She'd been home for at least an hour and already she started becoming a wreck, but she hardly cared if reacting this way was too soon. It was going to happen eventually, I suppose. She knew she was going to feel the words in their entirety when she was alone, and that somehow it was going to manifest and squander her hopes. And besides ... there was absolutely no guarantee that she wasn't going to lose a piece of her mind over it. She hadn't even begun to start thinking about what to do, mostly because she already knew that she didn't have it in her to let go. Letting go meant giving up so much of herself that had been furnished for her in hopes of proving herself, there was no way she could accept that. Turning toward the water knobs below the shower head, she leaned forth and turned the left one toward the left. She remembered that they had made plans to some day take a candle-lit bath, so she remembered to stock up on the singles that could fit around the outer of the tub. Grabbing the box of candles, she settled a few amid the narrow surface and looked for the lighter in the back pocket of her pants.The flame of the candles started to emanate a slight warmth and she put away the box to follow the code of undressing.

"I wish you were here," she told herself as she took the first step into the tub full of hot water, "I made the water hotter just for you." She sank into the watery solace of the bath with the miniature waves lapping up against the frame of her face. The water's warmth comforted the weariness of  her body, eased the ache that had settled in between her eyes and nose from a day of crying, and soothed the chattering of her raging thoughts.

"I wish you'd kill me now, you're the only one that can get the job done."