Take me back there

Sometimes all it takes is the smell of his cologne, a lyric from a song, or like tonight a simple sunset, falling across the lake to take me back.

When it hits, it starts slow, creeping into my heart and eating at it. Then like wildfire, it consumes me.

The memories float gracefully through my mind, only lingering long enough to tease me. It bites and grabs hold taking me back there again.

I let it set in, and I allow myself to remember him, the sweet smell of skin, the warm of his body against mine. I let myself think of what it felt like to make love to him, the way his lips felt against my ears as he whispered into them. The way our lips fit together, the way it felt when he held me, sharing our deepest secrets.

I let it flow through my body, it creates this warm sensation that makes me drowsy, and then the emptiness sets in.

It the biggest sense of a whole that I have heard felt, it truly feels as though something is not right, like there in fact really is a piece of my heart missing, and without him it will never beat regularly again.