"I'm home."
My whole plan for the night has changed.
"Let me throw on some real clothes and makeup"
"You don't need makeup"
"Oh the makeup isn't for you. The makeup is so I can deal with reflective surfaces."
I am there in less than a half hour.
You wrap me in a hug.
It's as if some sort of missing gear drops into place in that moment.
So many things are said in that one embrace.
Did it look that way to the casual observer? Or did it look like an average hug between friends?
There were no casual observers.
We're in a bar.
Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey.
You drink yours with Coke.
Mine has honey and is on the rocks.
"Are you two talking? Seeing one another?"
In unison: "No. Just friends."
Did anyone smell the lie before I recognized it?
My leg rests against yours.
You text me to communicate thoughts over the others' heads.
"Are you okay? I know he's a bit much. We can leave?"
"I'm fine. He's fine. Do you want to leave?"
We're leaving to join friends at a house.
We route through an ally to visit your brother's first.
You're in front of me. Beside me. around me. Kissing me. My lips remember things from years ago I'd told myself to forget happened. I shove you away. Confused. In shock. Dumbstruck. Awestruck.
"Wha...wher...where did that come from?"
"Oh. I see how it is. I'm sorry. Maybe I misread."
"No. Just...wha..."
I don't remember what else I said to you. Only what I felt. What I still feel. Shock. Relief. Awe. Joy. Disbelief.
I didn't shove you away because I wanted you away. I wanted to pull you in, ******* your hair in my needy hands and communicate to you things I've never had the guts to speak; wrap every inch of me around you and show you what my life had been without you; what it could be with you. I shoved you away because this is not what we do. We do not cross that line. We do not open that box. We do not acknowledge this...whatever this is. We ignore and deny. Even still, I didn't shove aside your next kiss. Or the next.