The feeling building up in your body is so overwhelming, you want to find a way to peel back your skin and crawl out of it. To feel the need to be touched, every inch of you, needing to be touched, is unbearable. Unbearable because there is no one here to touch it, only yourself. Your fingers can graze over your skin, but it doesn’t come close to matching the sensation of his hands. His lips. His everything.

Each day that goes by without spending another night with him feels like a whole year has gone by. The time that you do spend together goes by too fast, as though you can’t really feel it; it was never really there. Was he ever really there? He was, you are sure of it. You can close your eyes and remember each and every second spent with him. You can almost feel the scruff on his face before your lips reach his. You can feel his hand grab yours as you cross the street, a touch so innocent, but at the time it felt so exhilarating. Each moment with him was another strike of lightening. Each moment away from him is a heat wave. You’re sweating, panting, you are so desperate for a drink of water, but he is nowhere to be found.

You look at the clock, and it has only been five minutes since he left. No matter how much he can fill you up when you are together, there is nothing left of it after he walks out the door. The thirst inside of you will never be quenched. You think that perhaps it is time to taste another flavor.