personal blog: simon
ten minutes, not a single word uttered, but like a gentleman, Bryan walks me to my car, which I find the most absurd… and there is that moment of awkwardness. how do I say goodbye? that ridiculous nervous wave, smile, tic of fingers, but I reach for my keys, “well, this was nice.” a coward way of saying, ‘it was nice seeing you.’ more than nice. it is without regret.
“yeah.” Bryan mutters, creasing his forehead.
I spin to my car and just as fast I unspin from it. removing the space between us, Bryan pulls in closer, and for a moment hesitates before another ambush. at first fiercely then lovingly. one long kiss like the one long breath, and I wrap my fingers around the bottom of his jacket, frightened to explore his skin under his white crisp t-shirt, as he wraps his fingers around my ears. his thumbs pressed to my cheeks. waning in his objection. inviting me without hesitation.
the difference between being seductive and primal to being sensual and casual. enough to ignite interest yet revel to want more, and as we part, Bryan’s eyes pure of gold and fire; yet innocent, almost frightened.
the sliver of our fingers parting, freezing us in a moment. one extended kiss that just happened, the one with intention behind it. the virtuous intention of ‘I like you’, only makes me want to scream. it wasn’t supposed to go like that. I am not supposed to like him and Bryan isn’t supposed to like me. no one is supposed to like me.
“you’re unlikeable!” my sister’s scream came through the door. “you little brat!” and it’s because our father didn’t permit for us to use ‘shit’ or ‘perve’ or ‘bastard’.
“I want to see you again.” Bryan stammers as if through a haze or maybe it’s apprehension.
“you got my number.” I reply trying to hold it together.
the only emotion that remains for me to give is a faint grin and I grab onto the door handle and as quickly as I possibly can get into my car. my nerves all tied in my gut. I feel wretched and I can’t place what exactly I am supposed to be feeling.
it’s sucks to be in a constant state of confusion. this undetermined, undefined state. it’s like feeling all emotions at once and then beholding none of them. this is my mess. I am a mess.
read more: ← sunday 13:27 • sunday 20:29 →
© simon whittle — second act