Every of the Time

I’m thinking about you—

right now, in this exact moment.

Not just some random thought passing through—

it’s more like gravity.

No matter where I go,

I end up pulled back to you.

I think about your eyes—

how they look at me like they already know the truth

I haven’t said out loud.

And your touch—

not just soft,

but grounding.

Like when you're close,

the world finally shuts up.

I think about your body pressed into mine—

the warmth, the way it fits,

how everything slows down

and nothing else matters.

You don’t even have to try.

You just… make everything feel like home.

But more than that—

I think about what it does to me

to see you come alive.

To feel you trust me enough

to let go.

To smile in ways that feel new

even to you.

It’s not just sex—

but yeah, it is.

It’s the way your breath gets shaky,

the way your body moves when you’re lost in it.

It’s the quiet sounds,

the grip of your hand,

the way we make something real

in the space between us.

These thoughts don’t wait.

They don’t ask permission.

They crash through me,

out of nowhere—

middle of the day,

middle of a sentence—

just you,

flashing across my mind like a live wire.

And when you’re not here,

it’s not silence.

It’s sharp.

Like missing skin.

Like trying to breathe with something wrapped around my chest.

I love you.

Not in a soft, movie kind of way—

but in a raw, relentless way

that makes everything else

feel a little less real

when you’re not near

every of the time