literature

“It’s strange,” I say, “I never thought about you disappearing. “It didn’t mean anything until it meant too much.”

One morning I woke up with your face a centimeter away from mine; you were still sound asleep, breathing peacefully in and out, and it felt right. You fidgeted a little and tried to feel for something around, until your fingers met waist and pulled me in even closer. I could smell you on me, yet, that wasn’t close enough for you, and I thought to myself, ‘I like this. I like this a lot.’

That was the moment it all started to matter.”

—  Stories I’ll tell one day #88 – Ming D. Liu