I let you crawl into my bed and I reveled in your warmth.
Your fingertips felt like sunlight dancing on my skin, yet a cold chill ran up my spine.
“Oh it's nothing,” I’d tell myself.
Copious amounts of laughter bubbled its way into the air surrounding us.
All was well within the world.
* * *
We were progressing in our unordinary-ordinary friendship, or I thought we were.
A few days passed and I invite you again, but you say no and it isn’t the first time for this.
I address the problem only to find another.
I thought we were progressing. You didn’t want to progress. You wanted to backtrack and demolish the path we had paved.
* * *
That’s fine, honestly. You could’ve been honest though. You could’ve just said.
This is becoming a common occurrence in our society.
Boys are disappointing, but I am not at all surprised and I always say, “expect the worst, but hope for the best.”
I guess the latter of that statement got the best of me and you invoked the worst.