Ok, I am feeling incredibly hungover today, but this is for Aly and CK…Aly because, you finally got up CORT and I love you! and CK for giving me the quote (and I love you too)!
When I first saw you, I was scared to talk to you.
I saw you before you saw me. You looked lost, but also like you were meant to be there, meant to be standing slap bang in the middle of my carefully constructed world of denial and solitude. It was a strange feeling, not as strange as the fear of actually, maybe, possibly having to talk to you. It was ridiculous. I am a grown man and I was scared to talk to you. You brushed a lock of that gorgeous hair out of your eyes and turned your green eyes and wide, warm smile towards me. I nearly died.
When I first talked to you, I was scared to touch you.
Your voice was gentle and sweet, the kind of voice that belongs to a temptress. And that's what you were, even in those first few moments. You spoke to me and your eyes weaved a spell that I wasn't sure if I wanted to break. But you broke it; you stuck your hand out. I remember looking down at it, wondering how the hell I was going to work up the courage to take it. Stupid really, I imagine I must have looked pathetic, staring down at your hand. But some small part of me was screaming that if I touched you, it would be the end of life as I knew it. My breath stopped when our skin connected.
When I first touched you, I was scared to kiss you.
Your skin was warm, and unbelievably soft. I think I might have run my thumb over your knuckles, absentmindedly. I could still feel your hand in mine after you gently pulled away, if I think hard enough, I can still feel it now, small, but perfectly sized to fit in mine, like it belonged there. You licked your lips nervously and I suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss you. I wondered what it would be like to run my tongue over yours, to taste the inside of your mouth. Nothing prepared me for the breathing taking moment when I faced my fears and pulled your face towards mine.
When I first kissed you, I was afraid to love you.
It was like…nothing I had ever felt before. The first time I kissed you, it was in anger, I was trying to get you to shut up. Well it worked. I had never seen you speechless before. But before I could stammer an excuse or a justification, you pulled me back. We fit, you and I, there was no way to deny it. There was no way that any one could miss it. We fit together, your lips against mine, your hands in my hair, or on my face, or tugging on my jeans, tugging my closer. I loved kissing you, but I was terrified, terrified that I would fall for you, and that I wouldn't be able to scrape my way back to my world of denial and solitude. I claim intelligence, but you made my knees go weak.
Now that I love you, I'm scared to loose you.
It used to keep me awake at night, thinking about losing you. I would sometimes wake in the middle of the night, tangled up in my sheets, but your head on my chest, or your hands reaching up to me, smoothing my hair would make the nightmares go away. I'm not scared anymore, how can you be scared of something that has already happened? I lost you, I felt you slip through my fingers and I was unable to stop you. You felt you were doing the right thing, but you weren't. No one fits with me like you did, no one made me feel safe just by being near me. I was terrified of losing you, of you leaving me, but I never suspected you would be taken. Never suspected that your life would be snuffed out like a candle when the flame was at its highest. You didn't make my heart beat faster, you made it stop.
I think it might be the large amount of vodka I drunk last night, but I am feeling a little emotional!