Shall We Take The Leap?

This is me, for once, protecting my heart. You don’t understand it, you mistake the distance between us for my lack of interest but sweet boy, I want to like you. I really do. TRUST me, I do.

You’re one of the “good ones”, you’re my kind of person, you never fail to show me you care. And I wish I could too.

I let you kiss me, I even kiss you back. But I’m always the one to pull away.

We sleep in the same bed. I turn the other way, while you hold me from behind. You hold me tight, as if I’ll slip away in the dark.

You look at me, I look away. I don’t want you to see it in my eyes. But boy, you read my mind.

Writing always came naturally to me. But writing about you, I fumble. I type and delete, over and over. A process that drives me to insanity. Maybe if I write about you, it’ll feel real.

It’s not that I feel nothing for you. I do. I want to tell you every irrelevant detail about my life and I want to see you, a lot. I want to be with you. I want to make you laugh (even if you don’t find my jokes funny); seeing you laugh definitely makes me feel something.

I need to stop picturing relationships as ticking time-bombs, the beeping getting maddeningly louder every second. I need to stop seeing myself as the debris of what once was.

I’m not broken, and we’re not doomed.

When this is not so terrifyingly new, I promise to let you in, I promise to break these walls. And with time, they’ll tumble down and reveal the girl I once was, the silly girl who’d just dive in only to realize she never learnt how to swim.

Until then, will you hold me as we sleep?



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