Wednesday, 26 March 2014
06:00:12 AM (GMT)
Day after day slips past me, the majority of which I choose to spend with you.
Always near you, always together; and yet you're always so far.
I learned quickly not to hold your hand. You were forward with the discomfort it
caused you, and I wanted you to be comfortable more than anything else. I wanted you
to want to be around me, to see and spend time with me. I believe it worked, over
No matter our status, our presence has become one. And yet you're still so distant.
I thought it was sex I wanted, that that was the closeness I craved. To make
I believe I was wrong.
You broke my heart today, lying behind me in bed. My back was bare to you, and I felt
you shift toward me. I was expecting a kiss on the neck or a gentle stroke down my
spine, from the way your weight seemed to be moving, but as that short moment drug on
I realized how much I craved either; both.
I silently begged for chance to allow your hand to accidentally brush me. Nothing.
I felt something in me crack as I realized what I'd been craving all along was
nothing more than for you to crave the softness of my skin the way I crave yours.
I said nothing.
(p.s. this is true but very exaggerated mmkaaaay)