I Wanted

In that moment, I can guarantee you that I wanted to land the sweetest of kisses on your lips, only for you to grab me by the waist and pull me against you. I wanted you to press your lips against mine, I wanted you to kiss me like I was air and you couldn’t breathe, I wanted you to grab at my shirt as if you couldn’t stand its presence, I wanted to feel my hands behind your neck, maybe pull your hair, I wanted to hear your heavy breathing and hear you grunt as you force yourself to part away from me.

I wanted to see you run your fingers through your hair and hear you whispering a cuss word as you wondered just what exactly happened; just what exactly have you done. I wanted to see you asking me if we could cut this meeting short because you couldn’t stand this right now.

Later, I wanted to hear the sound of my phone indicating me I had a new text message and I wanted to see that it was sent by you. I wanted to read that you wanted to meet me to put things to a point; to figure things out because you were so confused and lost. I wanted to agree, meet you again and hear you apologize as you confessed that you might actually like me more than you initially thought you did. I wanted to see you hesitantly yet gently approaching me. I wanted to feel your forehead against mine, your breath tickling my skin and your hands on me. I wanted to see your face as I told you that, unfortunately, I didn’t feel the same.

I wanted to destroy you in the most excruciating way.

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