As we sat at lunch that day
(it seems so long ago now),
I tried to explain the ins
and outs of my breakup,
but burst into tears instead.
You're a boy,
and I forgive you for that;
but just like the typical boy,
you didn't quite know
how to hold
a sobbing female.
Figures.
But you tried anyway,
and I appreciate it.
In one fluid motion,
your arms were about me,
holding me to your chest
while I tried to refill my lungs with air.
Even through the snot and tears,
I could smell your laundry detergent,
and was comforted.
In that moment,
I could feel your heart race.

*But what you'll never know is mine did too.