• I’ve Never Even Held Your Hand

    by  • September 30, 2010 • * Safe for Work *, Friends, Love - Pure and Simple, Thinking of you, Yearning for You • 1 Comment

    I’ve never even held your hand.

    I could have kissed you. You didn’t pull away. You leaned in and lingered just as I did, just as that memory does, still, in my mind. The heat of your hand on my shoulder sent waves of panic and ecstasy to my lungs, which pulled hard but caught no breath. Your sideways gaze in the shifting light of passing cars on your street that night haunts me in my sleep. We sat in silence like that for minutes. Seatbelts unfastened, headlights off, stalled in every way in your driveway.

    I imagine what it would have felt like to put my trembling fingers to your cheek, to pull your perfect lips to mine and stop time, if only for a while. Those eyes, your secret eyes. That night, they did not hide desire or hold their usual mask of propriety. What I saw behind your eyes was the very passion I felt rising like heartburn to the back of my throat. It was the perfect moment. There was no question of unrequited fondness, no fear of rejection, no intoxicated judgments. It… it could have been a perfect moment.

    But in my chivalry–my virtue and my curse–I remember thinking that your girlfriend was quite nice to me when I met her. In fact, we got along very well. Granted, she was at the time unaware that I would fall in love with her woman, and she with me. Having known the pain of losing love to a new interest, I could not force myself to move forward. I said goodnight, and unlocked your door.

    I’ve kissed you in my mind a thousand times.
    I’ve never even held your hand.

    One Response to I’ve Never Even Held Your Hand

    1. M
      October 1, 2010 at 11:12 pm

      “rising like heartburn to the back of my throat”

      I like that.

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