[
Physical, I want to get physical... Let's get into physical]"This is not how someone cuddles if they
just want to cuddle."
I knew they had spoken about the night before--they talked about the chaotic mess that it had become, the confused and frustrated feelings, and even the phone call. As attached to technology as he is, the moment we heard his ringtone, he hated the existance of cell phones.
Now my head was in
his lap, hands caressing his knee caps, upper legs, anything I could reach while the lights in the black box in front of us flashed colors. We stretched, adjusted, and laid down, entangling our limbs together like vines. If you are patient, you can literally watch a gardenia grow more and more attached to its trellis over night.
I was a gardenia. He was my trellis.
"I still stand by my previous statement."
And we kissed. Simple and afraid at first. One side afraid of rejection and the other afraid of reputation. He said "I was always jealous," "I would be angry, too," "just tell me 'no,' I'll listen," and "you're great, you really are."
There never was a weekend that flew by faster with such little sleep.
Millions of tiny moments forever imprinted in the sanctuaries of my memory, special text messages saved temporarily onto my phone, and instead of a song of romance, a song of physicality plays over the videos in my head.
From the bruises on my neck to the bitemarks on my shoulder and every other touch and taste in between, this was the saving grace of my confidence, hormones, and heart.
Whether it will also be the fall of them all later is something I lack the power to foresee.
