She makes me get naked.

I’ve never been more naked in my life, and I mean that more so figuratively than literally; although these days most people believe it to be the latter, making me feel ashamed as to what our society’s become. But that’s a topic for another day.

I’m talking about the nakedness that follows when you choose to share your life with someone. Some people call it being vulnerable, but it’s one and the same. It’s uncomfortable but thrilling at the same time. I don’t mean to be a masochist but knowing that I could have my heartbroken tomorrow or next year or never, for once I feel alive because uncertainty is the very definition of life.

I’m vulnerable because of you. Because we’re both inclined to share our deepest fears and regrets and happy moments with each other. Because a relationship doesn’t work without vulnerability. Because it’s impossible to feel loved without first being naked.

And not once have I relapsed into one of those month-long spiraling depressing moods that make me feel worthless. Not once since I made her mine.

Who knew being naked could feel so good?

(Source: drewtrinnh)