Familiar

"All of this feels so familiar," I whispered while drawing shapes using my fingers on your bare chest as I lay my head comfortably on your left shoulder.

You shift your body and turn to look at me with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? Did you remember someone else while we're making love?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No. Not at all."

You eyed me intensely and then tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear. "Then what is familiar with all of these when it's just our first?" you asked while motioning at our naked bodies, crumpled sheets, dim-lit room, and the just-fucked smell of the air.

"Everything tonight feels so familiar and it's taking me back to our far-from-awkward introductions that I barely remember because it seems ages ago; like I have known you all my life.

Tonight feels like those times when we were just starting to get to know each other; when slambook questions were so petty and childish yet we answered them anyway; when we were sharing our favorite orgasm songs; and of course, the most important thing–knowing our middle names.

Tonight feels like the night when we argued about the ending of Dear John, or when I compared you to Augustus and the cancer was the distance, or when we watched Keone and Marie's dance videos, or when you danced so sexily like Brian, or when you recited Neil's and Rudy's poems by heart, or when we imagined we were Lang and Michael and how we'd write after making love.

Tonight feels like those days when we told the tales of our failed relationships; of how our exes painfully molded us to become this guarded yet so fragile. Every heartache makes sense now and though each of them felt like the world was crumbling down, I wouldn't mind going through all of them just so I am the woman and you are the man we are right now.

Tonight feels like the nights when we shared each other's wild fetishes and sex fantasies; when everything that's happening right now were mere wish-you-were-heres. Tonight feels like the moment I let my guard down and told you how I like to be touched and how I wanted to be fucked.

You see? This feels so familiar because I have been making love to you long before we even did it tonight.
–Myka M. Obinque