They Didn't Have Faces

It's not like I want to be in this position again. After he fucked me over time and time again my heart knew better. It was healing; yes in an unconventional way, but healing nonetheless. I was having fun. Yes, there were some consequences, but I've always said I'm going to live my life the way I want and that's what I was doing. So they didn't have faces. The boys I mean. No eyes that I would look into, no mouth that I would kiss. Kissing didn't happen and when it didn't it wasn't a nice kiss. It was hard and rough and although that's exactly what is needed sometimes, sometimes it's not. I was okay with missing that though. I was quickly learning about my emotions and how to put them to sleep. Even the boy that had been in my mind for four years, he didn't even make my heart skip, or my breath leave my body when he asked to come over one late night. He never made it. Probably for the best. So I was okay. I wasn't the person I was, I wasn't the person I was going to be, but I was enjoying living.

Then you got into my car. Then you made a joke. Then you said my name. Then I remembered to breathe. Then you talked to me at the bar. Then you said we'd hang out soon. Then you looked at me. Then you really looked at me. Then I got your phone number and messaged you and you messaged me back. Then I remembered to breathe again.

It had been awhile. I forgot about the rush. I forgot about the pounding in my head. The presence in my mind. The tornado of feelings circling throughout my body. I forgot that this is what it was like to maybe like someone again. Not like them like I did with him. That feeling will not happen again for a very long time. But this is a nice change. Unlike all the boys that didn't have faces, the first thing I noticed was yours.