I remember sitting there
biting into a piece of pizza and being overly aware
of every move I’d make and how you’d take
it, positively or not.
You’d think with time I would have forgot.
But time passed and that simple memory still lasts,
me and you, two, together before we were together,
together before my childish fear and immaturity decided that we collided too much and I broke your heart.
Forgetting that and remembering the first burst of love and affection, making a more than just friend connection, I think of how much I wanted to hold your hand.
It was practically all I could stand, just sitting there on that couch next to you, hand in hand, happy with no clue of where I was going with this, no desire for more, not even thinking of a kiss, just holding hands and being content.
But then I had to analyze, avoid, and detest any surprise arrival of you in my life, because now it seemed we were no longer two but one, and the fun of meeting you was replaced by a fear of no retreating from you.
Introvert isolated from life, from you, from guys, and meeting you upset and confused the system and I couldn’t see, I couldn’t listen anymore, I just had to end the tour through unknown territory and divide us for forever. And I think that I should never have even held your hand in the first place, because now it’s so much harder to forget.
I’m sorry that I ever let us sit, and hold hands, and pretend we were always going to be