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“Love that we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest and feels the strongest.”

~ Unknown

The streets of New York hummed with activity. Taxis mingled with the cars, the people moved as one.

Her blonde hair was tangled and wild, from a night she had never imagined, never predicted.

She looked down on the streets, her forehead pressed against the cold glass, and imagined the city empty. Nobody there, just silence and buildings.
It would be kinder to her senses, but nothing would make her mind kinder to her heart.

Tears slipped out from under her lashes. This was so wrong. So, so wrong.

She closed her eyes, and immediately saw his staring back at her. Those stormy eyes, bright with passion, dimmed with sadness when she said goodbye. Filled with tears when she said it again.

She’d managed to keep her own dry, until he was gone. Then the tears wouldn’t stop coming. Her eyes were swollen and pink, her cheeks damp and red.

Soon Michael would be home. But still, the tears came. Her cigarette shook in her hand, and trivial thoughts passed through her head.
Nobody ever tells you, she thought, about when you feel the heat from the cigarette on your fingers.

She stubbed the cigarette out in the ash tray, only half finished, and stared at it. Sighing, she let the memories come.

His eyes had burned into hers, that dark, beautiful blue, the whole night. His smile made her heart skip six beats, his touch weakened her knees; when she suggested they go up to the roof, he agreed.
In the elevator, they kissed. She couldn’t resist him anymore. On the roof, they kissed again. 

Although they went home together, nothing else happened. They kissed once more, and then fell asleep, her head against his chest.

Perhaps she could be forgiven for that.
But oh, what she felt inside. How her heart hurt when they said goodbye. It felt as if it had cracked in two, then been smashed to pieces with an iron mallet.
She knew she could not be forgiven for that. And she also knew that she didn’t want to be.

Falling in love was so terrifying.

She jumped as the door opened to reveal Michael. He looked almost frightened of her, and for a second she wondered why. Then she remembered her appearance, and turned away. Back to the window. She stared at her reflection.

She knew what she had to say.

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Almost, Almost

Queer librarian blogs mostly about books

© Felipe Adan Lerma - All Rights Reserved - Blogging at WordPress Since 2011 :)

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