I had a funny feeling about this one. So much of me wanted more. A kiss, a longer embrace, an even longer stare. My heart pounded half of the night. It was beyond perfect. It was the first time in months that I felt anything at all. My reserved attitude was out of character, but so were my desperate attempts at wit and grace. I wish I had just jumped in and told him everything. That I've thought about him every day since I can remember. That I've written countless letters that never touched an envelope. That I was convinced that one kiss would fix it all. He is the one that I let slip away. The one that for the rest of my life will haunt my subconscious. I had the perfect opportunity to tell him everything, and the fact that I didn't said quite enough. I knew I was no longer the object of his affection. His poems no longer hid my name. His eyes no longer burned with desire. I was placed in a box of old warm memories, doomed to collect dust on his impressively stocked shelves forever. Re-enter numbness stage left.
I hope she inspires your hands to write a symphony. I'd give anything to send melodies shivering down your spine again.
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