prose

That moment when you know you're falling for someone.

The cute little quirks you develop between the two of you; things that are funny, or stupid, or so cute that you're giving everyone around you within a 10-mile radius cavities.

The anticipation.

The wet dreams. The first awkward kiss, the learning of how to move your lips to match the ones you're devouring. The first fumbling at belt buckles, at buttons and zippers. The waiting, or the moving.

The falling into a steady rhythm.

The falling into bed.

The falling in lust. The falling in love.

The otherwise creepy things one does when they are in love. The staring at them while they sleep. The constant texting. The stalker-like refreshing of social networking sites, of e-mails; checking phones for messages.

Then the slow, steady pull into a comfortable lull.

The knowing what they will say, even before they say it. Knowing their pizza order, knowing their favorite drink. The keeping of designated sides of a bed. Fighting over the covers. Nudging the snorer.

The way two lives come together easily, almost gently, even after such a tumultuous start. The resembling of two great waves in the sea crashing against each other, to then settle into the ocean around them.

The getting comfortable.

The picking of fights. The resolution.

The dwindling, but never the death, of the wildfire that was your beginning.