Why do you have to be you? Isn’t it enough that since you’ve opened up to me I’ve seen you differently? Isn’t it enough that I am taken and these thoughts about you are wrong, just for that?
But no. You have to be you. The person I should never look at that way. I shouldn’t be noticing the changes in you recently. The way your back and shoulders move as you run upstairs. I should not be staring at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, daydreaming about grazing my teeth over that skin… Or gently biting down there as I come.
Nor should I be staring at how your body moves as you walk past me. Every single time. You don’t see it, you say; but I’m looking.
My heart shouldn’t race when you stand a bit too close to where I’m sitting. When I could so easily just turn my head and let my lips work softly down your side, tracing your hips, so close to wear they really want to be.
I shouldn’t find myself fighting the urge to let my lips linger on your earlobe as we share a slightly-too-tight goodbye hug.
Those unspoken words and knowing looks we share in a crowded room shouldn’t haunt me when I’m alone in the dark. Holding my breath and biting my lip so I can’t whisper your name at the final moment. Because it’s wrong. It can’t be you.
But it is. It is you. It’s you as I lay on my front, face in the pillow hoping no one can hear, wishing my fingers were yours.
You are dangerous and addictive. And you.
And god don’t I long for those goodbye hugs? Always have.
I have one of these in my life too. He kissed me the last time we were together, his teeth biting down on my bottom lip until my eyes fluttered closed. The sexual tension between us is mind-numbingly delicious.
I hope one day, you get to have them as more than a fantasy.