I’d never looked at you that way. The attraction not even a distant dream. That one night changed things. You said we played with fire, I laughed it off, you weren’t what I truly desired. That one night changed things. You dropped me off at home, told me to kiss you as you grabbed me close, I said no, and shoved away. I didn’t like the anxiety, the shaking, as if my legs would give way. Your eyes were sure, mine filled with fear. In that moment, I knew your mind had been here.
For me, kissing isn’t for fun; unless you’re drunk. Even still, I’m careful because of the transfer. It’s a window. A tie to me. Growing up I stopped being affectionate, but kissing. Kissing opens the door.
The night things changed, your lips were air, fire, water, and earth. Giving life, burning it away, washing it clean, and keeping me grounded. No mental connection, no emotions. Your body not what I expected; every bit glorious. Weeks go by, a month’s time, I see jealousy in my eyes, hear jealousy in your voice, yet we avoided making a choice.
People have always told me that I am aggressive. bold. Blunt. But they also tell me I’m a Rabbit. I run when afraid. Bolt when I feel pain. I thought avoidance would help me stay sane.
You told me you just wanted someone to love you. Love you for who you are. I raised my eyebrow at you, but also at the jitter I felt at the back of my mind. “You care about him” I ran from the idea, found it again, reminded that voice, “we’re just friends”. I made myself forget.
I didn’t run this time, but maybe I should. My planted feet slow to respond, while the hands that placed us are long gone. A visitor, a shadow, more full, although less strong, comes and waters us, feeds us, and reminds us of the sun.