I assume there is no way to fight against belonging to someone that doesn't belong to you...nothing you can do about it.
The moment I shared a thought with him, I was his. And in his silence, he remained solitary. There is a dull, lonely neutrality about his presence: an emptiness that left me feeling regretfully vulnerable
I wanted to gather up all the words with my arms and shove them back into my mouth----press my magic rewind button, and appear before him fifteen seconds earlier as calm and blank as a sheet of paper.
I wanted him to fight for me; for my attention.I wanted him to feel the need to touch me so badly that he couldn't contain himself.
I wanted him to meet me in all the small places where I wait for him.
Yet, Here I am struggling between denying myself the pleasure of remembering his favorite color and fighting the urge to lock my fingers into his.
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