“I can feel his soul through his lips. It's telling me a story of agony over how long it's waited for this moment and how it never wants it to end.”

“And then I can feel what he feels. He’s waited such a long time for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of me.”

“It's so strange how life works: You want something and you wait and wait and feel like it's taking forever to come. Then it happens and it's over and all you want to do is curl back up in that moment before things changed.”

“I can feel his very existence as if it's wrapping its hand around my soul, cradling it, trying to protect it from harm and I'm terrified. Terrified because I don't ever want the feeling to end.”

“It's killing me not to do everything in my power to beg you to be with me. To wait for me, because I'm waiting for you. Waiting to tell you over and over how much I still love you...”

“How can they ask why I feel so angry? Do you see my problem if I never explain it?But then there's you asking me how long. Say something, it's taken me so long.”