her fingers were frozen in my hand, i was afraid they'd stick to my skin like kissing metal in winter. her fingers were the only thing touching me and I floated into the air shot back down like a clay bird. her distance resonated as loudly through my body as christmas bells at midnight in snow. my shoulders melted down into my arms, slouching to try and shrink my feelings. it's as though she deliberately avoided a connection with me. that's the worst part, her smirk of armor covering the potential she knew was there for something better, more than cold hands held in the parking lot. i couldn't look at her. i knew her face and saw her grey eyes looking past me already, i'll never forget that look. when all you want is a chance, to be looked at, into, the worst feeling is being looked past and not even given a chance. i loved her too much already. hopeless, i knew the potential was there and i clung to it like burnt orange leaves to tree branches but they all have to fall sometime in their decay. i could have pulled her back, maybe, asked to start over, but instead i shrunk down deeper into my bones and slunk away from her complacent fingers in mine. it's difficult to convince yourself there'll be someone better, or someone more right when you have someone right in front of you, really fucking hard. like ice bringing blood to the spot that it's touching and firing up your arteries to pump harder, she ran my pulse and stomped all over it. no reaction is worse than any reaction. i couldn't walk away though, i had hope, even though she was just a shell, even though she wouldn't show me what lay beneath her smirk.
- for some reason i felt inspired. maybe i'll start writing this way from now on, from an androgynous author perspective, it's interesting to consider my thought process when i write this way. hm.
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