My face is pressed against your chest, burying my ear, cheek, eye, and half of my lips in the softness of your skin and warmth of your body. I listen to you breathe and the steady beating of your heart. There is nothing else around me in this moment except for you. I love this, but it is not what I love most.
Your arms are surrounding me, and I am safe. The encompass me, strong and unwavering. I can feel your muscles as they press into my back and shoulders, your hands as they settle in the curve of my waist and the side of my rib cage under my arm. You are blocking me into our world, turning my face to you and using your body to shield me from the outside. I can trust you.
Nothing needs to be said. We are just there, entangled and inseparable. I can finally rest and let down my guard, because you will carry me. For a moment, I don't have to be strong. Breathing in you, not fighting your arms, knowing that things really are ok...for right now, anyway.
And then I wonder, why would I leave? Why would I willingly choose to step away from the sanctuary you create from me? I don't want the turmoil of the world, the anxiety, the stress of constantly being on high alert and continually pulling from a reservoir of strength that is beginning to run dry. So why don't I stay?
Finally, I am loved with an unselfish, pure love. To be legitimately able to let my walls disappear because you are worthy of my trust. I believe that really you won't hurt me and that I won't ever have to protect myself from you...This is what I love most: being safe in your arms.