Over thinking. Stopped breathing.

I wasn’t supposed to hold my breath. But all I see is a silhouette of you coming near me. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t turn my back this time, it’s just way too obvious. And I’m old enough for that already. For Pete’s sake. I’m old enough for this already. But why can’t I do it right? Or maybe the right way doesn’t exist. Or it only exist for gorgeous people like Meagan Fox or Salma Hayek WTF.

I wasn’t supposed to hold my breath. But here you are, right in front of me, cupping my face I couldn’t see. Was I wearing make-up? Did I pluck my brows? How’s my lipstick?!? Is he…is he…is he going to kiss me? Oh crap. I couldn’t even look at you in the eye. I stare at your stubble. I glanced at your feet. I knew then, I was head over heels. And then it happened.

I wasn’t supposed to hold my breath. But then you called out my name. Feels like you spelled each letter with such ambiance and ease. As if it counts. As if it matters. You called out my name one more time. I tried to recall. I tried to say something wise. I blurted out a blurred yes. But you place you finger over my lips.

I wasn’t supposed to hold my breath. But the moment I tried to peek at your soul-deep stare, I wasn’t able to get away. You held my look like seconds means days, like minutes means months, like hours means years. Like ours means forevermore. And then you kissed me goodbye. I knew it. I knew. I knew it. WTF.

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