breaks leading to breakups.

In some way I know that we're a case of right person, wrong time. I just don't want to accept it yet. 

My relationship with Alex has come to a halt. What used to be an exciting new adventure slowly turned into a bitter nightmare. 

So I asked for a break. 

I asked for a two-week break so that he could focus on finding a job and getting his schedule back to normal without the pressure of considering me into his daily tasks. I know it sounds very vague but I'm not here to talk about our upcoming breakup. I was cleaning my room today and suddenly remembered a moment between us that overwhelmed me with emotions. 

We always joke about how we never made love, which is not the case, just because we prefer a certain type of sex. In our eyes, 'making love' is slowmotion sex. The slow thrust, eye to eye, passionate candlelight movie sex. Truth is we both just like it rough and that's why we deny making love to each other. 

But during my last trip to Lisbon in May we weren't on good terms at all. We were fighting for weeks and didn't intend to stay together. He came over to my Airbnb the night that I landed to talk things through. We were so distant from each other but everything inside of me burned for him to touch or hold me. I was drawn to his lips since the moment he started speaking, while I just sat there in silence with tears in my eyes.  One thing led to another and before we knew it, clothes were being torn off. At one point, while our bodies gradually started becoming one, we made eye contact and that's when he said 'I love you'.

I knew right there and then, with our bodies intertwined, we made love. 

The feelings that went through my body as he said those words were a mixture of passion, sadness, euphoria and longing. It's not like this was the first time he said it, but something about this moment felt so intensely pure to me. 

I miss you, Morgado.