You look at me

I look away

This couldn’t be

But I want to stay

This feels so wrong

But I have to ask

Is this where I belong?

Should I lower my mask?

I’m in love with you

And you with me

Until now, had no clue,

But some things are meant to be

You reach out and take my hand

My breathing hitches, I want to run

But now is my time to make a stand

To prove I’m not just staying for fun

I now have to prove what I feel

Not in word, but in deed

All these emotions inside of us are real

It is time for us to listen and heed

We were best friends, we shared secrets, stood by each other, had a laugh together, had playfights, we were always really physical. I loved your hugs, being wrapped in your arms, so tight. But I ruined it didn’t I? Wanted something more. wanted You to kiss me, your lips warm and soft, I wanted you to hold my hand, to say I loved you and hear you say it back... instead all I got was a "thanks". And then it was awkwar, you kept acting like nothing happened, like everything was normal, I told you we couldn't be as close as we were: "at least not straight away, I just need time". But you couldn't even give me that, you kept texting and calling, you'd ask for advice about other girls, put kisses at the end of your messeges. You called me beautiful once, I'll never forget it, and I asked you to kiss me, so You could see how it felt, see if you really didn't feel anything. You sounded so grossed out when you said no, like I was the ugliest thing you ever saw. That hurt, and the fact that you liked 3 of my friends, but eventually I got over it, I stopped answering your calls and texts, stopped opening up to you and letting you open up to me, in fact you were the only person I ever deliberately pushed away. Now college is over and you're just a memory, I still think of you sometimes, wonder how life's been for you. We were best friends after all, maybe we'd still be best friends if I hadn't told you how I felt, sometimes I wish I'd settled for what I had instead of wanting more, but I guess it helped us both realise some things about ourselves and each other, I'll always be glad I was honest.

I wanted you,

But you wanted her,

So I moved on.

You hated that,

And you told me you loved us both,

But I knew in my heart that it couldn't be enough for me,

So I moved on.

You tried to choose,

But ultimately,

You wanted her,

So I moved on.

It was difficult,

But you taught me something important;

Life goes on,

I may hate it,

But it keeps going with or without your love,

And so I moved on.

I married another man,

Had children,

Became the perfect mother,

But sometimes,

I still think about the what ifs.

If you had chosen me,

Where would we be?

I'll never know,

Because I moved on.

my freshman year of college in connecticut, i’d ride with this girl named jazzy to a beach in rhode island. we would always go at night; it was our only free time. i don't recall ever sleeping during my time at wesleyan.

jazzy was so black that she blended in with the sky. we would sit on the beach and kiss, and during those in between moments in which our lips were apart, we would ask each other questions. one particular time went like this:

i said, "what are your thoughts on communism?"

and she looked at the waves crashing and pointed, "it's beautiful in theory, like that water, but you get one rotten shark and it all goes to shit."

we kissed again, and i said, "you know, i'm a communist."

she shrugged, "i think we're all just here. so you don't believe in god?"

"nope."

"i'm in divinity school."

and we just kept kissing.

Your eyes spoke

volumes

to me across the small house.

I should’ve been distracted

by the flashing lights,

the moving bodies,

and the giant noises everywhere.

However, your eyes were always something I

noticed.

They were always there

watching

waiting

for me to look back.

At the next party

I thought it was a coincidence

that those eyes found me again.

I thought those piercing yellows,

mixed with a slight tent of green,

were temporary,

gone after the last party.

And yet,

they were back.

I fought the urge

to move my body slightly closer to those eyes.

A couple steps to the left

and I would no longer be in the center

of the dance floor, but rather,

slightly closer to you.

But I stopped

random hookups in high school.

I’m sure that was all you wanted after all.

After a few more parties your eyes became more

apparent.

More

forceful.

More

there.

They didn’t hold the same tone as before.

They looked more unbalanced,

unstable.

I had grown custom to those eyes.

I knew them.

They were calming,

relatable,

excitable,

beautiful.

But these eyes were new.

There were new ceases

making them curve differently,

new hues making them look

unnatural.

I didn’t like it.

Despite never looking back at you,

I know exactly how those eyes were

meant to look.

And I didn’t like these new ones.

After more outings,

I want to give in.

I want to go over,

to your smug little corners you always find

to watch me,

and ask what changed?

Why do they look so different?

Why are your eyes drifting?

Why do you feel less involved?

Is there someone else?

Was I not good enough?

I don’t.

But I

really

want to.

At the next party,

I look up at you.

I break every rule

I have ever put in place for myself

And reach out.

Our eyes meet

for seconds

I feel the world swell with quickening heartbeats,

my chest fill with clean air,

and my mind racing with long missed euphoria.

However, I break contact quickly

with a wink

and look away.

Not my best moment,

but holding your eyes was just too

difficult,

gut-retching,

too against my nature.

At the next party,

you’re definitely closer.

Not a hovering eagle watching over anymore.

You’re more physically close.

That same unstable look that

suddenly became apparent earlier

is still there,

but it’s more charming now

then anything else.

I debate going up to you,

hearing your voice for the first time,

maybe touching you.

I settle for next time I will.

Rule-bending has never been a skill of mine.

Rules were not made to be broken by me.

This party is slower.

I chose it specifically for this moment.

It’s all planned perfectly.

The atmosphere is magnificent.

The moment I go up to you I’m

starstruck.

Your shock makes that fondness in me

even stronger.

Your voice is more gorgeous then you eyes.

Something incredibly difficult to achieve.

The honey that drips off your vocal chords

tastes sweet to any ear, but especially mine.

However, your face up close is a masterpiece.

Every tiny detail

that makes up the human face

has managed to be flawless

on you.

We quickly leave the party,

taking turns complaining

about various things

on the car ride to my house.

And even though that might not be the

most romantic

thing in the world,

it’s still beautiful.

Once we walk past my door

everything comes crumbling down.

Months of waned off stares,

feelings of frustration,

and layers of fabrics.

I was excited.

Maybe too excited.

I came to love the way you caressed my face,

tugged at my lip,

kissed my thighs,

moaned my name.

I loved every part of it.

And the excitement I felt afterwards,

laying in a heap of blankets and limbs curled lovely around each other on my bed,

was enough to send someone to the moon.

However, after sleep finally took me over.

As I was afraid it would, you vanished.

I woke up in a pile of my own blankets and

self-pity.

Last night anything was possible.

This morning nothing would ever make of those opportunities.

You left me a note on my nightstand.

Not disingenuous, just

effortless.

I sat thinking of the signs.

I just couldn’t seem to find any.

Maybe reality decided I needed a moment of

clarity,

so it tricked me into thinking something

good,

real,

could happen for me, for once.

We had a romantic night, I thought,

but maybe that’s just my delusional brain

at play again.

I just really thought this time would be it.

I knew rules weren’t meant to be broken.

I just thought I’d give it one last try,

for romance.

A piece you left unspoken

I felt as if I was broken

Then came he

The only one who could reach me

People tend to dissapoint. Making promises of understanding your pains but never being there to hold you. When your eyes are drenched wet, no one seems to grasp that you want help. Then came one person who could see it. Something missed by the people who raised you. He sees the little paint left by your tears.

Someone finally notices the words that were left unsaid.

Someone finally catches your heart when it lurches.

Someone finally hears the knot in your lungs.

Someone finally makes you feel spoken.