A 20 second unexpected conversation with my father has left me feeling like I've been pushed 5 months back into the past regarding my mental state. How is this possible?

Truly (living) together

Suddenly, out of no where and no time at all, I wake up every morning to the scent of his skin and the aching of my neck from our shitty pillows. I notice how we hold hands even in our sleep and with space in between us because last night it just wasn't possible to find the correct position where we could dream our owns dreams, being as close as possible to each other and still be able to breathe. I would solely breathe you in if my lungs would allow me.

Life is beautiful.
I know I'm not in the most prime place right now, compared to how I was a few months ago, but it would be greedy to receive happiness like that all the time.
Bliss isn't permanent but the radiance it gives from experiencing it is, and it's just as wonderful.
I cannot believe I got to be that happy. That I get to be this happy and for the rest of my life.

Written 3/8

Everything has evened out. The pulse is normal. 

It's been a few weeks like this but the happiness has stuck on. 

Wouldn't it be wonderful if this was the new permanent? 

I haven't been overwhelmed with disbelief because this is all so real now. 

I'm tired. 

I love him. 

Beach Day

The family filled that massive unlived-in beach house with animation. I imagined that before we trespassed with loud voices and being, the coastal wind was the only thing that passed through until the next group of people came to inhabit and breathe into it for a few days. It was remarkable how many greens and oranges we were surrounded by. No one wanted this room because of the toilet smell but I didn’t mind because I cleaned it and it aired out within the day and it only meant that we could have it.

The first night we slept here (and fucked) was a very hot one. We were cautious because of course there was the concern that people might hear. I was careful not to ride you too hard because I thought that maybe the sticky, sweaty noises our bodies made thanks to the heavy humidity would be more than audible. Although, looking back, I’m sure that being the only people staying on the first floor and your stepfathers booming snores drowned out most, if not all of the noises we (mostly I) made. 

The second night we got our hands on a very large and very noisy fan. It gave us courage enough to start groping and messing around with people still gossiping right outside the room. I remember not worrying about keeping the laughs you gave me quiet but any other noise caused by you that I made with my eyes closed and my mind somewhere static and satiating, I wanted only you to hear.

I'm not here.
I am here but I'm not here.
It is clear that my body is there, it is apparent that my fingers are typing out these words but my soul is floating above and it's doing all the observing.