Welcome to 2018! That feels weird to write, where has time gone …
The afternoon is beginning to slip away when I find myself sitting outside with you while you smoke.
Years of paranoia have taken root. I’ve spent much of our time frequently checking my surroundings, expecting my father, or someone he’s sent, to pop out at any moment and ruin everything.
You’ve been patient. You’ve held my hand while we’ve talked and spent those few precious moments together.
I watch you, next to me, staring out into the parking lot from our perch by some god awful landscaping.
“Why wouldn’t you kiss me?” It’s a simple enough question but I shrug. I want to, with every fiber of my being I do, but there’s a fear that’s deep rooted. If my father found out I was here with you …
“There were just a lot of people in there.” I’m still just a girl who struggles to explain and that seems like the safest answer. You let your cigarette dangle from the side of your mouth. An idea slither’s into my mind. As playful as I can I lean towards you and grab at it.
You were always more straightforward than I. “What are you doing? Stop.” As quickly as the playful game to get a kiss came, it’s gone, now replaced with a sinking feeling I’m all too familiar with.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “I just wanted a kiss.” If there’s frustration in your eyes I miss it. Instead you move closer to me.
“Oh yeah? Ok. Well, here, you can take it.” You lean in more, offering to play my silly little girl game. I hesitate only for a second before grabbing the cigarette.
Suddenly your lips are on mine. It steals my breath away, is this what a kiss is supposed to feel like? My heart shudders and the darkness behind my closed eyes erupts in color. You rest your hand gently against my cheek, letting your fingers wrap in my hair. I may be young still but I’m certain this is special.
In that moment every ounce of fear and uncertainty fades. There’s no one but us and I have no worries that we’ll be caught. In that moment I’m certain you’d protect me. It feels right, like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be; in this moment with you.
Somehow I’ve managed to keep ahold of the cigarette and as our lips finally part you slip your hand into mine and take it back.
For a second we stare at each other, electrified.
“Did you see those fireworks?” You ask quietly.
Go see what we have waiting for you at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch!