Then I met her. There was a moment of abstract hostility that quickly turned to heroism and hearts melding, and suddenly my world ceased to matter. The sheer magnitude of affection kept my entire being focused on the most perfect moment. That first look into her eyes, searching the soul and realizing there was no need to look for a truth that was in plain sight. The tangible electricity of the first touch. How the world blazes white behind my eyes when we kissed. The embrace, firm and yet not suffocating. A slight twinge of anticipation as she pushes me down. The weightlessness of lying there with her. Contentedly helpless, I let her do as she wants. Fire! Oh, the Fire! The flames burning inside her flood into me. Burning so brightly, our passions arise, and neither want for water nor wish for stillness present. A sense of urgency and a hurried rade into a sweet oblivion. Then it happens, that final moment in our actions when everything is in perfect sync. Voiceless screams and our wildest dreams. Somehow, though both of us knew it, the moment is over. It is all a memory. The memory lasting the night over, and both of us knowing it is a moment we can revisit over and over, and that is what makes us love so...
