Kissing you feels like coming home. It’s returning to my childhood house as an adult. Things are exactly as I left them, as I loved them. But, I’ve been away for so long, and things don’t feel quite right. And when it clicks, it will break our hearts to learn that our pieces don’t fit together like they did before. I’ve outgrown my childhood home; all that lingers is the stale air of promise and broken dreams.
I don’t understand why I keep going back. Why do I want to break my bones down to slip into the spaces I used to fill? Kissing you feels like memories of sunshine and freedom, and I cannot seem to wholeheartedly grasp those without you. There is an empty apartment in my name, waiting to be filled, and yet I cannot move from this place. I kiss you to remember. I kiss you to mourn. I kiss you because I love you, loved you, broke myself over you, and it still isn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough.