Healing scars

It's been about three years since I've written or published anything on this blog. I have no plans on keeping up with this at all. But it's 7:13 in the morning, I just pulled my first all-nighter in a long long time, and my stomach is sick because I miss someone. I miss my friend Kim. My teacher, my lover, Kim. Upon rediscovering these pages I'm afraid he'll peel back the past and find something he won't like about me. I'm constantly afraid about this, because he's simply too good to be true. And skimming through these posts paints a picture of a stupid girl, who should've opened her eyes to what was in front of her the whole time. Would you like some wine with that cheese, ma'am? But it's true. As cliché as it might be. We rekindled our connection some months ago, and I swear to God, I never thought I'd have anything like this. And I admit. I was afraid. No, not even, I was terrified when he held me that first time, because when he first kissed me on the cheek, my stomach dropped to my knees. And I feared this would be a one time thing, since my feelings for him wanted more than just sex. Of course I didn't know then but I should have, how caring he would be. His patience with me is bottomless. Little did I know how important he would be to me. His calm, soft voice soothing all my troubles, as those big brown eyes I could get lost in, reassure me I can do it. I feel like a child struggling out of a cave. Then he takes my hand, to show me the world. To teach me about nature, or tutor me with a music lesson. And despite all these gooey thoughts, and feelings, at the end of the day Kim is my friend. I tell him almost everything, I would share anything, so comfortable I always feel right at home. I can say, that our wavelengths are about the same, even though he's someone I still admire. We're inseparable, like he's my sidekick, but I look up to him like a hero. And in a way, he is. He's saving me from myself, because he's been motivating me as I slowly kicking away all my bad habits. It's eight in the morning already. The birds are silent, but I know the sun outside is shining. As I imagine another time when the rays bit at our exposed skin, by the slivers of light pouring in from the blinds. And I secretly hope he'll read this, so he can see how lucky I am to have him.