Dear Em

seven

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Dear Ember,
Hiraeth.
   
A mix of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness, or an earnest desire for the past. An extreme desire for home.
   
Do you remember when you used to be my home? I do.
   
It was almost midnight one summer night, we were at your place, on the couch. You held me in your arms, the embrace warm and safe. We sat in a comfortable silence, our thoughts mingling and entwining in the air, making words useless. Your fingers played with my own, occasionally traveling up and down my body, slipping beneath my clothes and making me shiver with pleasure.
   
I had smiled at you, relaxing into your touch further. "Em," I had said, "it's moments like these with you that make me feel so happy, so loved." I let my eyes drift shut as your lips found my skin. Lips on my neck, my shoulder. "With you, I always feel at home. You are my home." Your hands had found the clasp of my bra and both it and I became undone. "I never want this, the warmth that I feel right now, to ever go away."
   
You had stopped kissing me, stopped removing my clothing and teasing me, and you turned me around to face you. I could no longer feel your warm body against mine, but your hands found my shoulders as your gray eyes looked into mine. You said, "Nyssa, I just want you to know that I'll always be your home." There was no trace of jokes in your voice, only seriousness. It was so intense that your eyes trapped me and I found myself paralyzed under your gaze. "Even if... even if something happens between us, which I'm not saying it will, I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. You can tell me anything, always." And then you kissed me and all my worries went away. It was just you and me, Ember, you and me always.
   
You knew what was going to happen between us, it's what you do with every girl you come across. You draw her in, say you love her, sleep with her, and then leave her. Just like that. You were such a liar Ember. Always. Always, except for when you said I could always talk to you, tell you anything. I think that was the only thing you've ever said to me that you meant.
   
So I've decided to send you these letters.

Dearly,
Nyssa