It suddenly occurs to me that this is it. This is how it should be. This is what Iíve been striving for my whole life. This is perfection.
Iím sitting in a warm living-room that looks like a bomb has gone off in the middle of it, scattering toys, books and drawing materials to all four corners. My head rests on the shoulder of a woman whose shirt has a rather large spaghetti sauce stain on it. Weíre watching a silly comedy show and my hand is loosely held in hers.
Ever since I can remember, I have felt that something was missing in my life. Iíve made it my lifeís ambition to find whatever it was to fill the hole in my heart. I got married to a nice, respectable man. We had two adorable children. Still I didnít feel completely happy.
I thought that to be happy, I had to be perfect. So I did everything I could to be perfect. I was the best wife I could be, the best mother, the best gardener, the best cook. The best. And I was, for the most part. And yet, still the emptiness was there.
And now, sitting here like this, I know what perfection is. For so long I thought I had to be perfect in order to be happy. But now I realise that in order to be perfect, I need to be happy.
I lift my head to look at her. She turns to meet my gaze. She cocks her head slightly and gives me that familiar, crooked grin. I sit up properly and lean over to remove her glasses. She doesnít move, just watches me as I place them carefully on the coffee table. Settling back on the couch, I look into her eyes and see nothing but warmth and acceptance. And love. It makes my chest ache to think of all the time Iíve spent trying to find something that has been on my doorstep for so long.
Itís years since the first time we slept together. Longer still since our first kiss. And for all that time Iíve fought against my feelings. Denying that this could be that elusive something Iíve sought. Itís wrong, Iíve told myself. Itís a phase. Itís a test. Still I kept coming back. And she welcomed me every time.
Sitting with her now, I want to say so much. I want to tell her how she makes me feel. But no words will come and instead I lean in and bring our lips together in soft union. Her eyes drift closed and a second later I allow mine to follow suit. Everything in me comes alive when she touches me. Her thumb traces my collar bone, electricity following in its wake. She straddles my waist and deepens the kiss. And I am hers.
As she pulls away I can hear myself whimper in the distance. I look up at her. Her golden hair is coming loose and her eyes are dark with desire. I have never seen her look more beautiful. She holds out her hand and I take it in mine. She pulls me up and we head towards the stairs, hand in hand.
Tonight she will make me whole.
Tonight I will be perfect.
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