impressions of him

Something small reminds me of him and suddenly a thought evolves into something more, bringing tears to my eyes. I can still feel his hand in mine, feel the warm palms sliding up my arm, caressing my cheek and gently brushing through my hair.
I want his arms to enclose me, warm me and give me a feeling of security. I want to put my hands on his shoulders, his chest, feel his heart pounding against my hand. I want to touch those cheeks, trace the cheekbones and admire the almost perfect bone structure. I want to run my hands through his soft hair, bury my face in it and inhale the smell. I want to look at that face for as long as I can, admire the radiance of his expressive eyes that follow me even in my dreams. His lips still haunt me and keep me awake at night.

I want him. Why can’t I be with him? Why does the distance seem so impossible to overcome? Don’t I deserve him? The feeling of his touch that I inevitably keep imagining? The feeling of his breath on my neck, his arm around my stomach, our legs knotted together?

Dreams. I’m alone.

No one there to warm me when I’m cold. No one there to make me smile when I cry. No one there to talk to me when I’m feeling lonely. No one there to take care of me when I’m down. No one. What might he be doing while I’m thinking about him, pining for him? Who is he with? What is he talking about? Or is he alone too? Like me? Alone in the midst of people, people who neither know nor understand me.
No, it’s unlikely he’s alone. He’s got his friends around him, laughs his wonderful bright laugh that sends goosebumps down my spine, and enjoys his life. Without me. He doesn’t waste a thought on me. Who even am I to him? A simple little light-beamed stone in a sky full of stars. A small leaf on a fruit-hung tree. An inconspicuous pebble in the middle of many. A nobody.

But he is everything. Everything I want to see, everything I want to think about, everything I want to feel and everything I can’t have.