Close Enough.

7 Apr

He reached in to touch my side, and I pushed him away, playfully this time. He grabbed me, then, rough-like and pulled me close. He locked eyes with mine, instructing me never to look away when I talked to him. I didn’t want to; he filled the room, and everything about him drew me closer. He turned his body toward me, brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, adoringly. I savoured the feeling, knowing I wouldn’t be adored forever. Instinctively I knew this couldn’t last, but I could pretend- right? For hours that seemd like minutes it was just two curious and infatuated people lost in the same sphere. The sing song rhythm of our bodies mimicked each-other, telling the other to “do the same as me.” I couldn’t hold him tight enough, and I couldn’t bring him close enough, even in the dreams that still pulse through my midnight hours. Maybe that’s because there was always something distant about him. It was never real. We were never quite real; we were play acting in a drama that was never really performed, leaving us both a little disillusioned and confused- me more than him.


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