My favourite part of the night is when I'm too exhausted, after the itching in my hands stops and my heart wrings itself out on his lips and his mouth tastes the way love should and I'm too tired to argue with my body and wrap around him needy and happy, and blissfully dumb. Time feels like it's burning all around everywhere and the only thing I want is to sit with my wide eyes in the half morning and look. There is outside, and then there is everything else, and everything else is richer and softer and sweeter than anything I'd ever imagined.

I stare so much, it has to be unnerving, it's got to be annoying. The way my breath falls quiet and my eyes feel like they get wider and darker and all I can do is just look at him, like a mute, all of the things I could think to say crowed in my mouth to make the worst noises, so instead I write out my I love yous on his body and wish that I wouldn't be so shrill or filthy, but some things aren't likely to ever change. I've never been so taken care of in my life and it's terrifying, it feels like I've been inside the most beautiful music box, specifically tuned to a song I used to love but never got the chance to hear the music finish until now.

The thing is that I am happier on my rock on this island than I ever have been anywhere else, and at every turn the question became why leave? Every attempt at a question had an answer, so why leave when it seemingly was designed to keep me in the first place. I'm saccharine and single minded, and overwhelmed.