I've been telling myself for weeks now that I let you kiss me because I was drunk but I've finally accepted the fact that I've been using it as an excuse because I'm scared of the fact that out of everyone I've been with, you were the first person I let my guard down around.

You were the first person who held me like I mattered. It has been weeks since that night, but I still dream about the way you murmured sweet nothings in my ear. Sometimes it would seem so real, I could almost feel your breath against my neck, but then I'd open my eyes and realize that I'm alone and you're not anywhere near me.

Sometimes I'd get a whiff of your perfume in a crowded place and I could almost feel myself sitting down on that concrete block with your warmth blocking the cold February breeze. For a second, I could feel my head leaning on your shoulder, but a second passes and you disappear, leaving me all alone in a place full of people and a gust of wind that was almost you.

When I finally let you kiss me in that dark, narrow stairwell, I was too busy trying to feel every movement you made, trying to remember every second of your lips on mine to kiss back. Now that I think about it, if I had mindlessly kissed you back that night, will I not fantasize about your lips every time I close my eyes? Will I not think of you every time a kissing scene in a movie comes on? Will I not compare every kiss from every guy that comes after you?

would you rather destroy

                                                everything you love

                       or

                               let everything you love

                                                                          destroy you?

You suddenly stop laughing and the light moment just a second ago will turn dark as you become silent for seconds. I ask you what’s wrong and you bite your lip, hesitating. My heart thumps fast and I realize something’s wrong. A million thoughts run over my head as to what I have done wrong. Did I say something? I rewind every moment that has passed since I entered this deserted coffee shop that has become our place for the last 6 months.

You take a deep breath and say you’ve fallen out of love with me for months now. That you just couldn’t tell because you were scared of breaking my heart.

I look down at my coffee and took a deep breath. I hate coffee. I never consume everything, even so reach halfway down to the bottom. I wonder if you had ever noticed that. I clench my hands to fists.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly and I close my eyes. “Please look at me.” I open them again and I see a teardrop fall into the cup, standing out for a moment then finally blending in to the darkness.

Again, I take a deep breath, swallow all of the bile that’s forming in my throat, and I look at you.

You had your eyebrows turn in a frown. You had your lips pursed. Your eyes were staring at me intently and all I can think of is how the **** did I not see this coming?

You beg me to say something but I just look at you with a blurry vision. There is a lump in my throat, completely blocking words to come out of my mouth. Please, stay. I wanted to tell you. Tell me what I did wrong. Let’s get through this. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I looked at you for a while, distorted because of the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. You just sat there, waiting for me to say something.

I never did.

And I looked at you until the distorted image of you finally stands up, walks to me, and kisses my forehead. I relish the last time I feel your lips against me. The last time I feel your arms around me. The last time you whisper something against my ear.

“I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

Your words seep inside my head, completely enveloping my brain and suddenly I was sobbing on your chest. I press my face as far as they can get close to your heart, just in case you remember you once said that it beats for me. My heart hammers on my chest and a thousand thoughts run through my head. Please. Please don’t go. Please. You love me. I love you. Please stay. I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.

A whimper of “please” was the only thing I could get out of my system and you hug me tighter. You apologize. I could feel that this was going to end soon. I hug you for twenty more seconds until you pat my back three times and pulled away.

“I’m sorry.” You tell me one last time before finally leaving.

I hear the door open, and close again. I turn to the door and your back was the last thing I see before I completely fall apart in front of the chair that you used to sit in for the last 6 months with only the coffee to catch my tears.

i wonder how much you know

i wonder how much i've forgotten

i wonder how much we never told each other

Stranger: *** is a beautiful experience
Stranger: again
Stranger: not to be rushed
Stranger: like tea
Stranger: you don't mix tea
Stranger: you let the bag soak and simmer, waiting for it to willingly offer its truest form
Stranger: not coffee no
Stranger**: it's always stir stir stir