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it never felt casual near the end. the quiet glances met with small smiles. the intimate, comforting silence we shared. everything in between. the loyalty. the listening. the unprompted actions that spoke more than ever words could. it wasn’t casual, we both knew this. i wasn’t scared of it. you were.

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i realize whenever we get into our big fights, the ones where i think it’s truly over. you never give me any closure. nothing at all. you shut down completely. apart of me thinks it’s because you want to remember the good parts, not our final conversation where you lay it all in front of me. another part thinks that you don’t want to say bye. you’re just leaving for now and you’ll come back later. months later… i’m tired of waiting though, i’ve realized i can’t just wait for months on end for you to come back. i have to leave one day.

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i’m starting to forget your smile. it’s all getting blurry. all i remember is the scenery around it. but never you. i remember how warm it was when we were at the park, how the grass was still turning green. how many people there were. the sun was right in the middle of the sky, it was around noon. you were walking around with your dog. i remember it was the first time i realized how much eye contact we made while talking. you came up behind me and you didn’t even have to say anything. i just knew you were there. i turned around and there you two were.

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i wish i had taken photos of you. I have none. I was too busy staring to even think about taking my phone out. i wish i had taken a photo of you while we were both still happy. i wish i could’ve captured your smile before all our fights. instead i have a fading memory of your soft smiles.

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when you hand me something we both make sure to ‘accidentally’ touch each others hands for a bit too long. fingers on each others, pausing while we look at each other, seeing what the other will do. we end up both pulling away. unable to keep eye contact. there’s a small silence. short and sweet, comforting even.

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okay ignore what i just posted about ignoring what i just posted i need to lie next to him and count all his moles and trace around them with the lightest touch and put my hand on his cheek and see how it moves slightly when he smiles and i need to trace his crows feet when his eyes crinkle and i need to memorize the contours of his nose and i need to

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scratch every sweet thing i said about him i need to touch his bare stomach with my cold hands and see him writhe under my touch. i need him to whine and his face to go red.

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i never understood how you could be so irresistibly soft. a few quick touches here and there only made me want more. i keep on rewinding to those chance touches, replaying how it felt. i can’t even describe it.

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your skin, i could go on and on about it. so pale and beautiful. absolutely no blemishes. you’re like a doll. no cuts or bruises. you have a few moles sprinkled all over your body. your neck, forearms, hands. a part of me wishes my hands could trace over them. the other part doesn’t want to touch you in fear of breaking you.

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i’ve never really felt the need to touch you until recently, gently touching your sideburn during the car ride to the rink, almost touching your ear. messing up your hair, touching the side of your face ‘accidentally’. making sure our hands touch when you give me something. now it’s over and i miss your soft skin.

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i won’t stop loving you. come back to me when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you.

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i remember when we met last year. we had to ask our friend to talk to one and other. too shy to do it ourselves. my face was bright red, i could feel the warmth flood my cheeks in contrast of the cold rink. it was nice. and now i can only look at you through the reflection of the thick plexiglass of the rink we once used to race around on. maybe i’ll steal a few quick glances before you can notice me staring.

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it’s almost been a year and now we’re just as estranged as when we met. we don’t even look at each other.

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i wish i knew it was the last i would be in your car. i would’ve kissed you on the way out. nothing crazy, just touching cheeks, maybe a small peck. like i do with everyone. just never you. we never had to hold hands, lock arms, kiss, hug, or even touch. the only time i ever touched you was holding your wrist for some odd reason. the only time you ever touched me was accidentally grazing my fingers while handing me something. we never had to touch to let each other know we loved each other.

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i have loved you through everything. through your addiction, through your recovery, through your relapse, through your attempt through everything. i still love you. i still want to love you but you push me away to the point where i cant. if you ever decide to come back i think i’ll still love you. through it all.

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if i had know that was the last time we talk maybe i would’ve told you i loved you. it was in the back of my throat too. i was waiting for next time…

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BLINDFOLDED BEDSY I REPEAT BLINDFOLDED BEDSY THIS IS NOT A DRILL