And then he kissed me

We talked about random things.  We talked about silly things and got to know each other.  He was nice and kind and inquisitive but not creepy.  He was equally interested in knowing things about me than he was talking about himself.  He wasn’t secretive or evasive.  It was a great first conversation and I left it smiling.

Then we talked about what we were doing.  What we like to do and where we’ve been.  We talked about the past and things we’d love to do in the future.  Some of the things he’s done that I’d love to do.  We joked about doing the same thing but at different times in the same place.  We reminisced and fantasized along the same plane of existence.

After that we talked about our actions.  Things we do and ways we act.  Various likes and dislikes and how we can’t understand how other people don’t share our likes or dislikes.  We came up with cutesy nicknames for each other based on these and teased each other based on others.  The words adorable and cute were bandied about in my direction and I told him to stop making me smile so much because my cheeks are starting to hurt.

Eventually the conversations led to something slightly more risque.  It was hot and I was hot and he seemed hot.  I was more empirically hot in the sense that I was sweating from the heat, while I found him more and more appealing with every conversation we had.  I looked forward to them.  When he would text me and say hello I would light up.  I had to contain myself slightly because I didn’t want to seem too eager and come off as desperate.
He asked what I was doing and I told him, purposefully, that I was folding laundry in slightly more than no clothing.  His attention was always readily available but his tone changed.  His words went from fun and flirty to flirty and suggestive.  I suggested just as much and we suggested each other doing very suggestive things.
We slipped back, comfortably, into our usual conversation of silly and fun to goodnight and in bed.  A smile permanently plastered on my face as I drifted off to sleep.  

Soon after we decided to get together to test the chemistry and physics, to see if the pull was just as strong and the reactions at the same intensity.  We met and we shared a drink.  We smiled and laughed.  The laughs were genuine and held in reserve for fear of looking too comfortable.  I don’t know why.
The drinks turned into more drinks which turned into a bit of food.  I can eat in front of him?  Wow.
Hours might have gone by, or just a single one I’m not really sure.  It was a great time, just as good as our texting and then better on top of it.  Better because I could see his blue eyes behind his glasses.  I could watch his smile when I did something dumb that he said was adorable.  There was even that moment I got to feel his hand along mine while his fingers dragged over my palm to see if he could make me shiver.  It was amazing and I didn’t want it to end, but it had to.

We got to my car, because he walked me to my car.  We smiled our goodbyes and hugged our regrets behind them.  We stood under the streetlight which, itself, was under the stars.  The busy, warm night was all around us and even though it couldn’t have gone any better I wish it wouldn’t have stopped and was a little sad that it was ending.  Would this be the best night we had together and it only just began?  I’m always so negative.

And then he kissed me.

Good enough was never good enough

You were a piece of something special in a lumberjack shirt hiding the most lust worthy bust I had ever seen, and I threw it away because I’m really quite the idiot.

I got scared.  That’s the part I told you.  It’s not like it was a lie, it was the truth.  Someone barked and my head couldn’t keep focus.  The gun shot threw me off, which is stupid because things like that never throw me off.

What really did us in was me being unsure.  This may be the undercurrent in every fucked over relationship I’ve ever had.  I never know if I want to deal with another person all the time, every time.  If I commit to one person and I’m stuck with them will it all turn out the same anyway.

And I know where this is coming from.  Even if I never could put my finger on it before, you were the best example of it.  That relationship to end all relationships fucked me up.  I hate being the poster boy for commitment issues because it always seemed like bullshit to me, but here I am.  I’ve got commitment issues because when I was fully committed I felt like I was physically committed.  You suffered for that.  All of you did.

Now I only have our words and their bittersweet smiles.  You were always so fucking good to me and even when it was unequivocally one sided I never knew whether you were for me or against me because of my own bullshit.  You were always with me though.  Always on my side, no matter what.

But it’s been two years now since we last talked.  I don’t know where you are or how to get a hold of you.  I guess you’re as good as gone.  I’ll hope not but it’s not promising.  I’d at least hope to get to say thank you.  A chance to rectify a goodbye that shouldn’t have been.