Is it crazy that life being too short is EXACTLY the reason I have no intentions on telling my crush that they are the object of my affection?
I mean seriously, the argument could be made saying that I have nothing to lose. However, I see that there is so much to lose. Making things awkward could just kill any hope at a potential friendship which is really all I am equipped to deal with in the first place. You can never be too sure who can appreciate the idea of a crush and not make it out to be the end of the world or the beginning of forever.
I am leaning heavily towards letting nature take its course. If it is meant to be there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it from happening. I am not planning on fighting it. I simply don’t want to make the mistake of skipping steps.
Does that make any sense?
You see… I woke up in those arms. Those small yet powerful arms wrapped around me and holding me like I was the softest, most favored teddy bear. I stretched and my hips rocked my butt back drawing the sweetest moan to fill my ears. A hand slid slowly up my belly, traced across my bare breast, and around my neck. My untamed hair was moved from the back of my neck to be replaced with three soft kisses.
A chuckle was followed my four more kisses. “I need to get to the gym.”
"Let me be your gym."
Lips smiled while still against the back of my neck. “You are already my playground.”
I smiled at the words. I giggled as the hand met its match and both began to cup my breasts. Massaging caused an unexpected moan to escape my lips. My bottom lip quivered. “You need to get to the gym.”
Lips moved to my ears and whispered. “Are you still afraid?”
"Yes." I admitted after a few reluctant moments.
"Even after what happened last night?"
"That was your first time ever…"
"Do you want me to go?"
Lips formed a smile against my neck. Kisses were interrupted by a simple “Okay”. Hands slipped down my waist and wrapped around my thighs.
***inspired by a crazy dream, a scene in my novel, & my new obsession with 6 word lines***
ever desired someon just outta reach?
you watch them from behind glass
wanting to smash it and dive
right into an abyss of discovery
touching. tasting. exploring. nibbling. scratching. moaning.
you want them to experience something
they boast about doing to others
unsure if you have the nerve
not caring. blinded by desire. craving.
zero fucks given to lacking experience
you ready to scoop them up
have them screaming out your name
vision blurry hyperventilating sporadic body tremors
attempting reconnection with their favorite diety
walking off rookie of the year
ego on high. heart on pause.
reality reminds you what they need
it’s the game of your life
not the season. not a career.
so you pull out the windex
clean the glass infront of you
hands in pockets. keep on looking
at what is out of reach.
- so no… at this time i can’t see myself ever fighting for love or a friendship again… as much as i still value the two i have to accept the fact that every time i go to war i end up just learning that my cause was not even worth fighting for…
- low key romance makes me smile. i am not a big fan of PDA. i love observing a glance, a gesture, something someone thinks no one else saw… even better something they don’t care if someone else saw… it seems like a secret language at times.
- this short story i am writing has got my mind all messed up… i can’t even seem to choose a proper crush… oh well… maybe once i am finished it…
*a twitter convo inspired this bit of rambling*
i miss having a crush
they let me know that i am still alive
blood pumping through my veins
hormones get to flowing
and my creativity gets moving
i mean it is hard to write about relationships and love
if you have no muse
granted i could write an epic novel on depression
but who the hell would want to read that?
i want to write about the warm chill that
dances through your body when you
see that special someone
the imagery playing in your mind
when they are in it with you
the throb between your thighs
when they are really in it with you,