She is on top of me, straddling me as I look up into her face; a perfect face framed by her dark wavy hair. She supports herself with her arms as she leans over me, strands of hair coming loose from behind her ears and falling to brush against my face. We sit like this, motionless, for an hour, maybe longer, looking into one another. Her face shows no emotion, yet behind the windows of her eyes, all I see is her, and love. In this moment there is no difference between the two. She sees the same within my eyes. I know this because I see her truly. There are no walls now, no double meanings.
My vision blurs and thick tears trace down the side of my face as I blink. Her face softens just slightly, “What’s wrong?”
I reach up and brush some loose strands of her hair back behind her ear. My hands linger and I hold her head delicately between them, a simple reassurance that she’s here, she’s mine. “Nothing,” I say, seeing myself from behind her eyes, “How did I get so lucky? …to end up with you.”
She smiles, a simple small smile, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I blink quickly to clear the tears that have regrouped and now threaten to obstruct the connection of her and me. “Are you kidding?” she says softly, “You’re perfect.”
My hand trembles as a tear falls from her smiling face to mine. We continue to inhabit the other’s soul, lost together in an abyss of perfect oblivion.