Romance.
When I am around him I find myself slow, lacking vocabulary and clear thought pattern, wit escaping me. Blushing in his presence, nervous anticipation twirls in my stomach wondering when I will see him next. I am trying with all my might to ignore him... but after our conversations he quotes me on my words, and when given chances he stares at me without subtlety. I am a moth to a flame. And it isn't going unnoticed - mutual friends comment on the appearance that something is going on as he creeps closer to me from across the room, finding a seat for himself at each table I move too. He seeks opportunities to speak with me, and knows that winning me over will not be easy. It is a slow dance, with chivalrous behaviour peeking high. I am fighting with romance (a battle he is trying to win).
And why am I so distant to the notion? Because of you. My heart was so open, easy for the taking, sweet nothings whispered softly in my ear. Without hesitation I reciprocated with wild abandon, and how did it end? With tears.
For years I wouldn't allow myself to think of it. Better to believe that it doesn't exist then allow myself to succumb to it. But I know that I deserve it, and that believing in it is not something that only little girls do. For now I exhibit resistance, but I hope that I fall prey to it - and that the fall is quick so that I cannot protest.
And why am I so distant to the notion? Because of you. My heart was so open, easy for the taking, sweet nothings whispered softly in my ear. Without hesitation I reciprocated with wild abandon, and how did it end? With tears.
For years I wouldn't allow myself to think of it. Better to believe that it doesn't exist then allow myself to succumb to it. But I know that I deserve it, and that believing in it is not something that only little girls do. For now I exhibit resistance, but I hope that I fall prey to it - and that the fall is quick so that I cannot protest.