It amazes me how, two weeks ago, I set you aside.
I didn't want a deja vu of her, with you.
I didn't want the feeling of your lips and your hand in mine to corrupt my days.
I pushed you away from the emotional part of me.
I tried not to flirt with you as much as I had been.
I tried to file you in perpetual friend zone.
I tried to ignore when you smiled and I would smile because of it.
I tried to ignore when you would play with my hair, when you would touch me.
I almost succeeded.
I almost got over you.
I almost managed to convince myself you would never feel the same.
Until you told me that it wasn't impossible.
Until you told me I could have a chance.
Until you told me I was wrong.
But now I don't know how to act.
It's a secret.
I can't tell.
I don't want to ruin you, so I'll keep it to myself.
But now I want the feeling of your hand in mine back.
I forgot how gratifying that felt.
I forgot how reciprocated feelings, even if they're confusing, felt.