He sat next to me and said softly.
“I want to finish”
We had just had lunch together, He suggested and paid the bill.
I felt as if I had just finished the last death row meal.
(I would find out this later)
We had barely begun. Nothing fit.
I was speechless.
I could only ask a simple question.
He tried to explain metaphorically. That when we loved someone, we were agitated just to think that we would meet that person, that the cold in the belly did not happen to me.
I did not understand, because I simply felt everything.
The fear of not being in the right clothes.
The happiness of seeing your smile.
Anxiety for your touch.
The urgency of feeling his kiss.
Every part of my body yearned for it.
He completed …
I’m not talking about desire … I’m talking about love.
He wanted me.
It was fact.
I could feel his body getting lost several times. As he whispered disjointed words in my ear.
I tried to argue.
Love can be built, day after day.
Fool. He believed in fairy tales, when he told me several times that enchanted princes do not exist.
It was useless, he had already decided.
He stayed with me for another hour as he processed the end of the dream.
I waited for the last kiss.
Did not come.
We say goodbye like two friends who like each other but did not stay together.
With tears in my eyes and broken heart.