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The last time we had sex was in December of 2008. I haven t come like that since. Our last kiss was in January of 2009. It tasted like tootsie rolls. That same month was the last time you answered your phone with the usual, “hello beautiful”. The last time you said that you loved me was in March 2009. Our last hug was in April of 2011. The last time I heard you laugh was in June 2011. I am scared that the last time I will ever see you will be in July 2011. But the last time I thought of you was today. Before that, yesterday, and the day before. And every single day before that since the first time you held my face in your hands and asked if no meant no or it meant try harder. When I told you it didn’t mean no, you kissed me for the first time. Our first kiss alone. That kiss was in October of 2007 and I can still feel it. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong that I refuse to think about it most of the time. Here I am engaged and you with a lover who seems perfect for you in ways I never will be. But you walk into a room and I feel you before I see you. You, who are so casual with your touch, you wrap your arms around everyone or holds hands with people you have just met, you are careful never to touch me. Do you think I haven’t noticed that? Because when we do touch it burns for an hour. I have these flash backs of us. I can see you kneeling in front of me in the rain to tie my shoe. I feel you scoot in behind me on a picnic bench at the coffee shop. I remember your fingers, with their short nails and ink stains, collecting my hair and tucking it behind my ear so you could look into my eyes. I can taste the blood from when we were in such a hurry to kiss that you bit my lip in the car on our way to a Halloween party. I remember warning you at that same party not to fall in love with me. You told me it was too late. Did you think I was too drunk to remember that? Has it been so long that you don’t remember that that night I fell asleep wrapped in your coat because it smelled like you? Our lust was like a fire that never went out. It was hot, unstoppable. On the bed, on the floor, in any place we could get our hands on each other. I have never burned like that with anyone but you. People think, my other lovers think, that I am not very sexual. You know better. We can’t be together and I understand that. We have separate lives. For all I know you never think of me. You could be perfectly happy with her. In fact, I hope you are. But I just had to say it. Just have to say to someone, anyone, that you are my love of a lifetime. The burning, greedy, I-cant-stop-thinking –of-you love that no one believes still exists. You, with your silly laugh, brown eyes, hair that sticks straight up and tattoos up your leg and down your back. You are my love of a lifetime. And you always will be.