Love Languages || Georgenotfound

Physical Touch

Dear Florence,

Something has been lingering on my mind for a while now. Something that I never would think I would dig into as much as I did today. What is love? Such a simple question can put people's heads pondering. Many think it is magic, others think it is stupid, and others think it is pure science.

I wish I could think of it as magic, but I know it isn't. You know that, Florence. You know me too well for that. It's that I wish I could hold you in my arms for one last time. I wish you could make me feel as good as always for one last time.

I've missed you for the past year, I hope you are doing okay. I miss the laughter that breaks out mid-kiss. I miss the way you wrapped your hands around my waist. I miss the way your thumb wiped away my tears. I miss the way you would mess up my hair when I just finished combing it. I miss the way your finger ran down my neck. I miss the way your cuddles gave me warmth on the coldest of days. I miss the way you would tap my shoulder to scare me. I miss the way you held my hand to display that you love me. I miss us sitting together watching movies. I miss it all.

The way you made me feel when we were close was something I can't even put into words. It was almost as if it were magic. Your hugs kept me close through our darkest days. Your kisses made every single one of my problems go away. Your arms wrapped around my neck reminded me why I am here in the first place. Us holding hands felt almost as if we were connected. Everything you did made me closer to you, physically and emotionally.

I miss you. I know you're never coming back. You're dead. I've accepted that now. I just want you back for one last kiss, one last cuddle, one last touch. I just want it for the last time. As I'm sitting by candle fire with your favorite scent lighting up my room, all I can think of is you. It's cold. It's dark. You made that all disappear, Florence.

I love you. I loved everything you did for me. The way you made me feel when you touched me is indescribable. I love you so much, Florence, but you still disappeared without a trace.

Your lover,
George