We were up in the air,
Or it was love,
Maybe the heat rising as the night set into place.

In the parking lot that glowed with the moon reflecting on the cars,
He brushed the hair from my face with the tips of his fingers,
And cradled my head in his lap,
While Bright Eyes serenaded the night,
Kissing my tired eyes in the middle of all the songs.

I felt specks of lust in my heart,
But more of a sense of adoration,
Affection,
Which is rare for me,
The girl of stone.

I stopped thinking for a good three minutes about how I couldn't offer myself or even a part without the constant anxiety of possible loss,
How the words he would write in the morning love notes weren't always grammatically correct,
How earlier he grabbed my hand without knowing it held a coffee and led it to spill on my sleeve.

He buried small pecks in my hair,
Taking breaths of the floral scent still present from yesterday's washing.

I sat there in the humming of the car radio with a rapid heart beat,
And soon, a feeling of guilt.

"I don't deserve someone who is this good to me."
And while I couldn't think of the reasons why,
The statement stuck in my head,
Forcing me to sit up and stare out the midnight window as if I was expecting a familiar face to show on the other side.

Abruptly leaving was my only option before eating myself alive.
I drove the whole way home missing the eighteen goodnight kisses I ran away from,
And the brightly lit possibilities that hung from the stars.
All because I didn't think I deserved them.
But I did. And I do.