I wonder, 'does he want me to text?' or 'is he just saying it to be nice?'. I flirt, shamelessly, to see how he reacts. Nothing. Did he notice? Should I be more bold? My hand grazes his. It wasn't a mistake. Does he think it was? If I do it again, is that too obvious? I want it to seem like I'm being magnetically attracted to him, like gravity is pulling us together, not like I'm calculating my every move to be closer to him.
But I am. Oh but I am!
Hours upon hours of this game of hit and miss, hit and hope. And hope. And hope.
And before I know it, the night is morning. The sun is coming up and we are right where we started, making subtle friendly gestures and holding eye contact longer than necessary. I am not sure where I stand, where he sees me, if he sees me.
Morning breaks, and I've all but given up.
I wonder, 'is he happy i left?' or 'is he thinking about me? what is he thinking?'. I drive away, and my phone chimes. My heart skips. My hands tense. My stomach twists.
Caution be damned.
Text message, from him: "I'm thinking I should have kissed you goodbye".
"You're probably right"
"Dammit"
Oh those beautiful butterflies.
L
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