I waited for you tonight. I hope you know that. I sat in my car and turned off my lights and begged the moon that you would come out and stop me. There are so many things I wished I told you, so many things I’m glad I didn’t. I stayed there for five whole songs. Even few seconds I raised my arm, tried to push the door opened. I wanted to go back for you. I slammed my back against the seat, my head against the window. I couldn’t; I wouldn’t. I drove slowly away from your house, eyes on the rear-view mirror, so sure I would see you sprinting after.
Seven. That’s the number of times I almost swerved off the road driving home, checking my phone, so sure that there would be a call, a text. I haven’t cried yet. I took off my clothes and laid in my bed. I felt so cold and I waited but no tears came. The fact that I want to cry makes me want to cry. Heat is burning my skin; the brand of humiliation.
I miss you already. Is that normal? Healthy? I hope not. I hope no one has ever felt like this before. I hope no one ever feels like this again. My stomach is twisting, a raging sea of nerves and anger.
Three. That’s the number of times that I’ve stopped writing to check my phone. What is wrong with you. Didn’t you see the desire in my eyes? Don’t you know that I don’t want you to love me or speak to me, I only want you to touch me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Your touch. Ice and fire and soothing the shakes in my muscles, the water brimming my eyes.
I can smell you on my skin. Iron and mint and gold. My throat closes up. My hands clench and unclench; from fists of fury to limp acceptance.
I don’t think our fight was even a fight. Just covert looks under hooded eyes. If anything it was an unfight. The room was thick with words unsaid. I could feel them in my lungs, they were clouded and muddy, both of us imagining something much worse than the truth.
You stood across the room from me, awkward silence heavy on my shoulders. Your chest was bare and I was trying the be mad but you were glowing in the white light from the TV. It drifted softly down your ribs and I wanted to follow it with my fingertips, my tongue.
I waited for you. I waited for you to cross the room, press me up on the wall and show me you wanted me. But you stood there. Towel in hand, mouth unused, face blank. And then I thought about ripping my clothes off and jumping you. And I thought about how good it would feel and how happy I would be. I took a step forward. Then I thought about the times you didn’t call me. And the times you didn’t look at me. And the time you kissed me eyes opened. I took a step back. I thought about how it would feel if you pushed me off you, looked at me in the tired way. I took another step back. Your eyes darkened. You were disappointed in me. You stared at me like I stared at you.
I hope you were scared. Terrified. Because I was. Fucking breathless; my heart on my sleeve without me knowing it was there.
So I left. I waited till you turned around and I pushed against the cold metal door and stumbled to my car.
I waited for you.