Our Click

And just when you think the way you feel about someone cant run any deeper, when you think you may be able to untangle yourself from them and the paralysing grip that they have on you, you realise that it can indeed always grow deeper and when that happens there is no way of releasing their grip. The two very much go hand-in-hand.

I saw the other part of me today. The grip got tighter and I am now rendered in this paralytic state. I’ve got to say, I’d very happily stay within his grip if Saturday happened every day. Saturday was “us”, my Awkward had returned, he’s not been around for a while, and seeing him so …. so “him” again was wonderful.

Him – “I miss it, I miss you”

Him – “My heart hurts; I miss our click so much”

Me – “Mine too, all day every day”

Before I knew it I was pulling up on his drive. I didn’t want to go in. I didn’t want to go into his home, not knowing who he may have had there since I had been gone; I didn’t want to put myself in that situation. I didn’t want to see gaps, where lanterns and candles and other gifts I’d bought him used to reside. I didn’t want to see “our” snug and wonder if he’d have been snuggling with someone else since we had parted.

I wanted to believe that he hadn’t begun to move on, that the words he had spoken about not wanting to commit to anyone or anything be true. I didn’t want to be faced with the stark reality that there may have been or may be someone else. That someone else may be holding his hand as he falls asleep, that someone else had been falling asleep in my favourite place.

But still I stood on his door step with a tummy fizzing full of butterflies and popping candy. As he answered the door I think my heart may have stopped and I didn’t breathe again until I was in his arms with my nose pressed into his neck breathing in the familiar scent of the man that has become my home. I noticed that he was also doing the same, a rather weird habit of ours; first mine, admittedly, but now his. We held each other so tight it hurt, but I didn’t want to let go and as we pulled away and looked at one another he pulled me in closer.  We giggled as we both realised that the lyrics of the song playing on the radio were rambling on about “your smell”, very apt given the fact we were both hugging and smelling each other’s necks like a couple of teenagers !

It felt pretty amazing to know that he had missed me as much as I had missed him. Because a part of my Awkward had been missing for such a long time I couldn’t recall many times where he’d expressed his true feelings towards me.

I have always had an overpowering need to touch him, to kiss him, to take every inch of him in, he intrigues me, always has done. I suppose there was once a period where I didn’t feel quite as at ease with him, but being with him now in this moment literally felt like I’d found the other part of me, like the missing piece of the jigsaw had been slotted into place, my heart sank as reality reared its head; I knew all too well that this would only be temporary feeling of completeness. I knew that this feeling would eventually be replaced with an aching in my heart that started almost as soon as I put my coat on in preparation to leave. But for now I tried to push those thoughts aside. I wanted to enjoy the feeling, the feeling of him and the feeling of us.

We spoke about our day to day lives, our work and careers, new jobs and eventually we wound up at the familiar topic of “us”. It wasn’t painful like the last four months; I wasn’t frustrated at his lack of response to questions. For the first time in months he seemed able to talk about his feelings, his fears and about us.

I’ve only ever asked for his honesty, yet when faced with it, it hurt. To hear that he’d been chatting with other people was like a knife straight through my chest, but I smiled through it, pretending to be cool with it.

We laughed all day and smiled whilst remembering events of the last two years, our first date – the stargazing night, our inside jokes, the “one day list “and memories shared. My face ached from smiling so much. I couldn’t bare the thought of leaving again and having to hand back the other part of me until next time.

The shaky moments felt different than ever before. We felt closer and more in tune with each other than I could ever have imagined possible. I have wondered in anger filled moments these past few months, full of upset and rejection, whether I felt this alone, if he felt even half of the way I did. Saturday made me realise that he did feel it, it was real, it wasn’t in my head and I realised this weekend that I can’t replace him and what we have. I have never felt this way about anyone in my entire life, and I know I never will again.

We lay fingers entwined in each other’s, listening to music and recalling the summer that everything clicked. Pondering over the subject of the “click” and how we would potentially both spend our whole lives settling for less if we didn’t have each other, if we didn’t have our click.

Two days as I recall our Saturday I’m still smiling my holey faced smile, but with an extremely heavy heart and a fear that runs so deep that I will never have the click, I will never have my favourite place and that no-one will ever feel like home. I wonder what life will be like knowing forever that the other part of you is somewhere else, lying next to someone else and living a clickless life without you.

We’ve seen each other at our saddest and lowest, but he has also made me happier and more content than ever before. He gets me, we love our story and I love us.

No-one feels like him. No-one feels like home. The other part of me.

My missing puzzle piece.

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