Sugar. 

That’s the first thing I taste when her lips touch mine. Clara, my sunshine, her touch lights me on fire. My star moves her hand up my shirt, and I lean into the touch. I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I’m not complaining. I got home from a long day at the shop and felt an ambush of love as soon as I stepped through the door. 

It’s warm. My love lit a candle - my favorite, warm vanilla sugar, before I got here and the scent swirls around in my brain as our lips touch. 

Memories just flood through me. 

The first time I saw her. A small little coffee shop. Her behind the counter, with her silky black hair I was dying to run my hands through and her beaming smile that spread across her whole face. Her smooth olive skin. The way our fingers brushed as she handed me the coffee. Her warm brown eyes as she stared at me, slid me the note with her number on it. 

Her hands slide around to my back. Soft, soothing, gentle strokes that calm my brain. And then the rush of adrenaline when she parts my mouth with her tongue. I gasp and our breaths mingle. I close my eyes, stay still, and just breathe her in. Absolute bliss. 

Like the day I got down on one knee. It was so nerve-racking. We had only been dating a few months. But I knew she was the one. Knew as soon as I saw her through tinted glass. Hardest part was deciding when to do it. Finally I just got tired of waiting. I sent her on a little scavenger hunt, filled with little inside jokes and secret spots. She met me at Sunset Park at sunset. I didn’t even plan for that but it worked. Bathed in oranges and pinks I told the woman I loved just how much she really meant to me. She said yes. And the serotonin felt in that moment is only matched by the time I spend with her now. My fiancé. 

I feel the cool touch of metal as she cups my cheek with her hand. I look at the little diamond on her finger. Quaint. It was all I could afford at the time. I promised to get her a bigger one. She said this one was perfect. I turn my head in her hand and place soft kisses on her palm. Then I take her hand in mine. I kiss every finger, every line, and wrinkle until I memorize the shape and texture of my darling. 

My darling. We held hands for the first time in public at a pride parade. She’s always been shy. I’ve always been private. We got together in late fall, but it took us till July to reach that simple milestone. Of course, in private we knew every inch of each other. But there was something special, something so intimate in the openness. I’ll never forget the way she moaned my name that night. 

She moans it now. Low in her throat. A small growl. Sarah. It sets my heart ablaze. We sink into the couch. Something pokes me and I yelp. It’s my keys. I’m so entranced in her that I just toss them aside, numbly noting the small thud they make as they hit the glass countertop and slide until they hit one of the various plants on the table. 

So many plants. When we first moved in together I finally understood what a maniac she is for them. My Clara loves life of all kinds. She loves to nurture. Later she told me that they tend to make people feel safe, like they can breathe easier. That’s why she has so many in her shop, Good Beans. She loves to make people feel welcome, safe, loved. 

And that she certainly does. Whether it’s succulents or people, geraniums, ferns, gay or straight, she cares. She cares about me. She loves me. When she tugs on my short brown hair or kisses my freckles, I wonder how I got so lucky that she chose me. 

Sometimes it’s still hard to believe. When she first told me she loved me, it didn’t process for days. So every time she saw me after, the first things she said was that she loved me. And she’d ask me at the end of the night if I believed her yet. I would say no just so that I could hear her say it again. She caught on eventually. But she still says it every day. And so do I. 

I mutter it between kisses. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Panting, she breaks away and just stares at me. Eyes so full of love. They’re boundless, like the sea or the sky. Tinged with honey so sweet I think I’ll dissolve. But I don’t. Instead I just cuddle up with her. She snuggles closer and I sigh. This is how it’s meant to be. My head on her chest. Her arms around me. This is home. 

I look up at her and smile. This woman is my everything. My role model, my muse, my motivation. But all I can bring myself to say is a soft hi. 

Hi. She laughs and says it back. Her laugh so sweet and bright. Like sugar. Like home.