My Lover, The Air

The air is my lover, fore when I reach out, it is only her face I caress. When I walk outside, she greets me with a gentle kiss across my lips, though it is only felt because she rushes by so fast in what the world calls the “the wind.” As I stand naked in my room, only her eyes gaze upon my body with a willingness to touch all over. Any whispers sprung from my lips when an urge and longing to say “I Love You” to a woman, only fall to the ears of the air that fills the room. She's loyal, my lover; the wind... but her touch is always cold and leaves me wanting for more. When I touch her, grateful as I am that she is there, still I feel nothing but emptiness.

It is funny the things you miss and long for when you are alone and romantically unwanted. Most would think that a man only strives for and thinks about the physical pleasures that come from having a woman to make love to. Perhaps, there were times in my life when even I thought that was true...though I can't remember a day. In truth, it is the smaller and magical moments I long for, that cause me such pain. Moments most men, I suppose, take for granted. I long to walk up behind a woman and press my body to hers, then feel her as she leans back against me without thought of what she's doing. The inviting way that a woman will turn her body toward you as you walk in a room, because she wants you to come greet her with a kiss...though she would never tell you that, because she knows she shouldn't have to.

I often picture the way a woman looks when she is sitting in the tub with her knees against her chest and her arms wrapped around loosely around her legs. The way her hair looks wet at that moment, and the subtle but ever-present hint of her breast that is visible. The curve of a woman's legs as they rise slowly up to her waist. Poetry has been written about the softness and inviting nature of a woman's skin and each time she touches you it becomes all too easy to understand why. I miss even the knowing that there is a beautiful creature on this earth that wants me in every way, just as I want her. A man's lullaby is that of a woman sleeping next to him. The sound of her slow but even breathe, the feel of her body brushing against me as she turns over, as if, even in her sleep...she wants to know I am still there. The way a woman can look at a man as she wakes for the day, I miss that more often than there are words to express it.

I long to see a beautiful woman as she walks around the house in my button-up shirt with her bare legs sticking out underneath. I miss laughing to myself as I stare at her walk across the room that way, because I realize she has no idea what she is doing to me or how she is making me feel at that moment. Of course, I miss most of this... walking over to her and staring into her eyes as I cradle her face tenderly and with a soft yet passionate kiss...helping her understand how I feel and what she is doing to me. I miss laying a woman down and seeing the light, no matter how much or little of it there is, glistening on her skin. I long to take my time exploring her body as if it were the first time, even if I have explored it every night for years. I yearn for that moment when I slowly slide inside of her and I can feel her body cover mine with each inch that enters her. The look on her face as this miracle takes place and feel of her pulling me closer as if to say “I want you completely inside of me in every way” as my every touch tells her without words that I feel the same way.

Though I long for the obvious things such as: the feel of a woman's soft lips as we kiss, the nights love is made with fury and an almost animal lust for one another, for the pleasures and unexpected moments of passionate sex... though I long for these things, I long just as much for those moments when she crinkles her nose because she is in a playful mood, when she mockingly pouts at me because she can't get her way right at that moment, or she sits in my lap...puts her head on my shoulder and arms around my neck... just because she couldn't stand to not be feel me in an instant that would have otherwise passed us by.

My heart hurts because my only lover, the wind, cannot give me these touches. I can never share these moments with the cold wind, and she is all I have. I am a man full of passion, desire, and a longing for the woman that I don't even see in my dreams. I look in the mirror and I know the man looking back is a great man with mentionable attractiveness. I do not doubt myself in these ways because of my loneliness and pain...I only live each day, with the pain...walk outside...and greet my lover the wind...praying for the day I can feel the passion of a warmer lover again. For now, these thoughts, emotions, the moments that steal my breathe, and all the little things about a woman that a man like me holds so dear and sacred...will remain in my head, and if I'm lucky in my dreams.