I tell her that I know not who I am. She laughs gently and tells me that she knows all too well who I am. That she has always known and that she can change my lonely life.
I hold her in my arms, her head nestled on my chest. Her dark wavy hair falling in a cascade off my body. For a few moments it feels like it could be me that she loves. I squeeze her gently with my arms, rocking her against me. Bending to kiss the top of her big forehead, I whisper ever so softly "let it be me."
Soon we will go back to our lives. But for now, she is mine and I want to know what love is.
"Tell me slowly what I don't know," I ask her. She tells me of the mountains she must climb. She tells me how his eyes lit up when they met, how he held her hands after dinner, of how he moved her body with his strength and size, of how his athletic body pressed into hers as they made love in the way she likes.
Things will happen while they can.
I caress her face gently, whispering "I don't want to change your mind."
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