Living makes me sick.
Cold and clammy hands repeatedly wiping themselves on already soiled pants. Standing there in the heat watching her hair as it gently waves in the wind. Waiting for her to turn back around. This was going to be the moment he waited for. The first kiss. The last few days have been a dream that bordered exquisite pleasure. The conversations and the banter. The constant feeling of being forced to dig further and further into his memories to conjure up something just as intelligent as what she set forth. The joy in winning an argument and the moment of pleasure when a point she was trying to convey finally materialized. The feeling of having found a equal in the world but also the missing piece. The moment of staring at her hair and pondering the many years that could lay ahead. The possibilities that would spring forth from the simple response of yes. Clammy hands wiped themselves again on his pants.
She turned around and looked straight into his eyes. Depth and understanding as no words passed but she knew what was coming. Fright filled her mind and shook her soul. The thought that this could be a dream scared her but the thought of losing control and falling completely for him made her tremble.
Both of their words hung in the air. They quickly spoke them and both said the same thing. Different words but the same meaning behind them. One person’s dream crushed. Another’s dream held back in fear. Hands no longer clammy yet reaching. He pulled her close for a kiss and wrapped his arms around her. Taking a chance that she would understand that holding back because of fear would only hurt more in the long run.