I remember the way you’d look at me. It was always so soft and welcome. I remember the way you’d pucker your mouth and bite your lower lip, as if nervous or unsure – like a boy in love. Sometimes you’d smile so wide I felt the whole world open up before us. There was always peace in your smile. I remember your “happy cheeks.” I remember your eyes – how intently you’d try to look into me – searching my gaze for the window to my soul. And for some reason you had the key – you’d light up once you found your way inside. All my guards came down with you. I couldn’t believe you had the key, but I couldn’t fight you or resist you, and damn how I tried. But I was smitten to the ends of the earth. You had a boyish charm at times – manly at times when it was more appropriate or required, but charisma exuded out of you and it was more because you were true and real. I keep trying to remember that – you were real. For some reason, lately, I can feel you and remember you a little more clearly than I could last week or last month.
I long for our private times. I miss your touch more than I could have ever imagined. It wasn’t like you could just caress my arm – I felt your entire soul and intent with each trace of your fingers on my skin, whether it was my cheek or my thigh. You would hold my body with yours with such certainty that all I knew was safety in your arms. But when you looked at me – there was only love. The deepest most freest love I had ever imagined existed within our gaze. I had only ever wanted you. You were my other side. My answer. And in our nest we were always calm. We were always honest. We were always free. We were always each other’s always. I remember our kiss – your kiss – your lips.
I remember your eyes and your looks. I remember your smile and your crooked teeth. I remember your impatience, your excitement, your weariness and your eagerness. I remember your voice and your tones. And I remember your love. I remember to you I was worth it. To you I was more than a girl. To you I was your Sheri, your lover, your future. I remember how you used to call me babe. How you used to say I love you. But for the life of me what I can’t remember is how you used to say my name.