"I just want you to be happy." I type, my breath uneven, tears threatening to spill. I knew it was going to be her. It was always going to be her. I never even stood a chance. "So and so is typing..."
I want to pull away from this. From you. I want to just stop and act like we never got close. I want to act like you never became my rock. I want to pretend like you don't know how to make me smile
or laugh when I don't want to. I want to do this because I am afraid. Afraid of falling in love with you even when I know you would never feel the same in return. Afraid to get my heart broken. Afraid to once again get hurt. Afraid to put my faith in someone else. I am so afraid.
The humid air embraces us like a soft blanket. We sit inches apart with books in our hands quietly studying the words before us. Your cat crawls across me and we steal glimpses at each other. The air feels warmer, more enchanting. I can hear your breathing change when you reach a particularly interesting part in your book. I look up to see you smiling, your dark hair falling slightly out of your hat. This is the first time I have seen you still, at peace, since we had broken up. I continue my book. Soon, it is time to go. We hug and suddenly, overwhelmed by the familiarity, the certainty, I kiss you. You do not kiss back. The spell is broken.
Sometimes I just want to run until I don't exist anymore.
We smile into our text messages after planning a day to see each other. My fingers hovering over my phone in quiet hesitation. Any misplaced word could demolish the delicate balance we have established, "I can't wait to see you," I type. Anxious at his reply, wondering if I stepped too far over the line, I wait. I stare at the three dots, the endless three dots. Finally, I get his reply after about ten minutes, "Yeah, me too." I know, his fingers lingered too. He is afraid of throwing us off kilter too. Of making things messy. Of risking what we have so carefully built for just a single misstep of feelings.
It is hard to be just friends with someone you are in love with.
I was cold so you wrapped your body around mine. I was cold so you let me borrow your sweatshirt, each morning I would wear it and pretend it was you, wrapping your body around mine. My heart was cold and that way it remained, you withdrew your right to wrap your body around mine. I gave you your sweatshirt back.
I wonder if I will ever be warm again.
I feel like I am being pushed away by those I want to be near the most. Slowly but surely. No one really needs me. They don't want me. Their lives won't be any different when I am no longer in them. I will be just that girl who used to bother them. I am just a side note. An afterthought. I am meant to be alone.