I'll confess that I can be a little selfish

Something I wrote instead of doing my history coursework. Go figure.

He kissed me. If you want to call it a kiss. It was more of a brushing of flesh, ephemeral, quick. It was over so fast. But I will call it a kiss.

I became hungry for him. I wanted to touch him, to hold him, to love him as best I could. I didn’t feel like a human being - more like an animal. If there was a way to meld our bodies together and for me to become one with him I would have done it. But it was over so quickly.

He planted his hands against my shoulders. Softly, but firmly. He uttered one single, breathy, wretched word. No. And at that monosyllabic bullet my world began to crumble. The foundations of me shook in a tremor of pain and suddenly I was holding me up. My soul was holding me up.
I tried to embrace him again, but his hands against my shoulders kept me at arms length. I said please. Please. Like a small child asking for cake. Almost coquettishly. I don’t know why, it just slid out of my mouth, the words like slugs leaving a tangible, messy trail between us. He shook his head to reaffirm what I already knew. He dismissed me like a homeless person begging for money. He took two step away and severed eye contact.

My heart wanted to leap out of my chest. It was pounding against my ribs, a dog against a fence, determined to break through. It seemed reasonable. If I couldn’t have him I would die in front of him. My heart would beat itself out of my chest and lie between us, like an elephant in the room. In my head he wouldn’t catch me as I fell to the floor; he’d just watch me twitch and convulse, my arms stretched out towards him, pleading.

How tragic.

Ciao.
xoxo