Last Night

It doesn't happen very often. I admit it even less.

Last night when I crawled in bed. I ached to be held and loved. Not pretend. Not a warm body for tonight. Not because I'm an excellent fucktoy. Not because he'd found an excuse to be out all night or fit me between his other lovers.

No. None of that.

I wanted that bone deep love. The kind that sticks to the walls of your soul. That kind of safety and security.  That kind of absolute, not-gonna-get-distracted-n-go-away. The you're the center of my world kind of love. The kind that heals wounds, calms fears, gives your soul a place to put down its guards, breathe deep, and take root.

I wanted to be held.  I wanted to lay my head on a warm chest and let the scent of my man comfort me.  I wanted strong arms around me tight.  I wanted to feel a hand reach up and pet my hair as I let go of just a few trickles of tears and wounds that ached.  I wanted to feel his lips kiss away the wet trail.  I wanted to feel him roll me over and shelter me beneath him, whispering in my ear whatever magic words I needed to hear. I wanted to be loved - slow, long, deep.  I wanted to fall asleep in arms knowing I wasn't alone.

Silly. Pathetic. Unrealistic.

I know. I know.

But that's what I wanted. And needed.

Last night.
~A Tired, Stressed-Out Kitten