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  • The next morning I’m still there, and I can’t remember the last time I woke up in bed with someone. I’m glad that I wake first, because I don’t think he’s seen me sleeping, and I’m tempted to leave, because even now this is further than I like to go.

    But instead I pull down the sheet and place my hands on him, moving across him lightly, feeling how his bones and muscles get on so well, and looking at how silently he sleeps, how slowly he breathes. It’s almost like he’s dead. But his eyes open slowly and he reaches for me and we’re fucking again, and romantic thoughts start filling my head.

    Like, why can’t it always be like this.

    Like, how long have I been kidding myself with all those losers.

    Like, if this exists, why would you be with anyone else.

    And I shudder because it all feels divine, and it scares me because this is not how I feel about people, about sex with others.

    We have breakfast naked, sitting above the city, watching the rain fall, and it’s us on the inside where it’s warm and it’s everyone else outside, and I feel myself getting sucked in further.

    So I leave, wanting nothing more than to stay in that bed, in his arms, to see him again already. But knowing that I can’t. That I can’t bear the disappointment of the next time not being as flawless, not being the same, of the gradual decline in excitement and tenderness. I don’t want his perfect skin to ever be less than perfect. I don’t want our conversations to lose their sparkle. I never want to feel that we don’t fit.

    In the elevator I realize I’m trembling and I lean on the mirror. I wonder how many times you have to put up with mediocre sex with people you don’t like to find the magical ones. I wonder why so few people fit with me. I wonder if other people ever feel that fit, or if some people live without knowing it. I wonder if some people have the ability to never lose it.

    I wonder if my endless search for something else is enough to take me away from him. I wonder if the first time will always be the last time. And by the time I get to the ground, I wonder who else, what else is out there.
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