Every now and then

It wasn't about your body being perfect. It wasn't about you being perfect. It was about that you had this...let me start again. It was about that when you weren't near that I would play you on repeat in my mind, intensely fixated on you, but when you were near, all I could see were the flaws that turned me off. Knowing those flaws intimately, I didn't care. The effect you had on me was too overpowering and addictive. You were worth more to me in that broken form than not at all.

first loves don't leave...I guess that's true.

Every now and then, I look you up and force myself to not send you a message, not to continue searching for you, not to continue to wonder about you. How I've failed!

Maybe the cycle of heartbreak is part of your attraction, a memory of you colored with devastation is your sex appeal, a tainted slaughter of affection is the cure, so now I engage in this affair of my mind flipping for an imagined love. No crushed kisses met with your re-emergence. For a few days, I can almost sense you, then it fades into the abyss and all normalizes.

Game Time

I was on my laptop. Home. Waiting for her.

I heard her come in. She had that pinkness still on her face, a sign of crying.

"Are you alright?"

"Umm...I was thinking on the drive home that I should do more to protect you."

"Wait. What?"

"You think I'm gonna give into you totally in this way you crave, and I'm not. Why am I gonna string you along, waste your time, waste your effort,"

I slam my laptop closed. "This again." Raising my voice. "You spend time alone, and you come back with this shit!"

"Then what are we doing?"

"Thinking logically and long-term?"

"Yes."

"Why decide now? Why think about it and discuss it now?"

"Because you want me invested in this, invested in you, and knowing the direction of my investment is what I need to continue here."

"Oh, now you're demanding things." I wave my hand, away with her request. I notice I'm standing.

"No!" She steps forward. "You wouldn't take a job without knowing the job requirements and responsibilities. Well, that's the sort of direction I need. You can plan and take on so many things because you don't need to calculate me into the equation, but I don't feel that way. I do enjoy thinking things through with you, turning to you for advice or insight, but for me to consider what you say, I need a direction on this investment. I need to know the value of what you say. I want to know if what you say is meant as a long-term consideration or short-term."

I cover my eyes and wipe my hands down my face. "Here you go with this crazy talk I can't decipher."

"Then you just answered my question. Your reaction right there colored the direction you are going towards. So I need to leave. I feel you're invested in this, but not in the same direction that I am."

"No. Stay." I calmly let out. "You want a consideration. This is my consideration: Let's talk about this and figure it out. Lay all our cards on the table, and figure this out."

Just like that. She wilts. Her defenses gone, and I say this with a bit of embarrassment, I slightly melt at how easily her will sheds. 

All my life, I've searching in the dark (guy's pov)

Kissing on this campus of brick barriers, high enough to sit on, have some fun make-out sessions. Following her hand in hand to her building, anticipating how much further this could go in private. Maybe that's why I'm restricted to public kissing. Stopping in a shaded walkway, turns and locks lips with me. Finally. I feel I can take a full breath and enjoy it. Her mouth cold (from drinking soda) against my warm tongue, my tongue searches for the coolness, brushing over each millimeter, taking it in, claiming the territory. I want to have free roam over her body. I hook my fingers into a belt loop on jeans over each hip, pull up gently, she gets the hint, jumps up the ledge while my laced fingers follow her body. Momentarily off my lips, I dive for another stepping into the embrace of her knees, my face at chest level. Hunched above me, her hair shrouds us in moving shadows. I take advantage of this slight privacy. My hand roams to her neck right above the hollow of her collar bone, gently jerk her jaw up to nestle a couple kisses on her neck and back up to devour her mouth. I want more. I need more to keep me satisfied longer, hit that peak of calm, and claim a delight. Inhaling kisses as dependence for breath. Eyes closed, searching in the dark, trying to reconcile how much I need more than this. I need the total control to have what I crave. Hoping a kiss, the perfect kiss will convince and tear away your will and self-control, live in the abyss I create, not be able to help yourself but submit to me and my desires. So I kiss you as tenderly as I can, as aggressively as possible, and as deeply as you allow.

How long must I wait for you?