Cold hands. Nothing but him in front of me. Tears. He picks me up gently, tightly hugging me as if he was trying to put back all the broken pieces. He gets me. He thinks I’m self destructive for letting people get too close and break each time someone leaves. I get it. I can change that. I guess it’s not as hard to shut everyone out. Not too close. Not even too far. He puts his arms around my waist, appropriately and gently leaning on my chest, resting his head. He is shook. My heart could easily jump out of my chest. Anxiety. Fear. I’m afraid, but of what? Of you, all of you.

I wish you would kiss me more often really, cause I began to forget the way you kiss and the way I should kiss you back;

I wish I could see your pretty face in a dark room between the sheets with me, while my lamp lights just enough of our faces, so I know where your soft lips are, and where your beautiful eyes look;

I wish you would see me not just when we meet because of our mutual friends, I want you to be there when I’m lonely;

I wish you would keep me closer but instead I feel like I’m drifting so far away from you, and it hurts.

I wish I could stay by your side the whole night, sleep until our heart beats sync, until the beautiful morning sun wakes us up and I have to make tea for us.