Posted 5:47 PM by Anonymous

Everything is at once new and old again. I feel happy and light, giggly and girly. We reach out to each other with cold, nervous fingers. Our sense of touch heightened, we caress our intertwined hands. Slowly, I warm to the idea that this is OK to do. That I can, in fact, enjoy it.

We look at each other like young lovers who’ve never so much as been kissed. Our innocence is strangely exhilirating, ironically pure for 2 people who are past the quarter-centry mark. Even more so because we’d already done this all, with each other, a long time ago. But this time around, it’s different, naturally. This time around I’m a scarred, hurt mouse of a girl, quivering in the shadows of my knowledge.

Each step we take reminds me all over again of HIM. When you wrap your arms around me, when you lightly hold me, it feels secure and safe. It also feels just like me and him.
And that’s when the pain sets in, that’s when my sweet high is corrupted by the past that was me and him.

My confusion recedes and advances, recedes and advances. I’d like to thank you for being here for me. I’d like to hurt him for leaving this long, lingering pain.