i can't
you're an itch i can't ever scratch. there's never any relief from it. there's never a moment i spend with you when i don't want to run my hands through your hair, wipe that dulce de leche off the corner of your mouth or bump my hand a little harder against yours.
you dyed your hair a slightly darker color and you look a little more like you did back then. it looks beautiful, you are beautiful, and things are calmer, better, the touches and glances don't feel awkward anymore and a small part of me wishes that things will be really like before.
every time i talk about lola, or lupe, or anto you feel a little colder next to me. when i shit-talk about my ex you seem to sit up a little taller. when i boldly asked ale for flor's number you looked so forlorn and my head can't help but imagine, make up, hope that the reason for your cold stance is what i want it to be.
i light my cigarette and you can't find yours; you lean into my fire and your face is bathed in gold and we're barely an inch away. just a second, all it would take is a second. just a taste, a reminder, a breather. it would take just a second for the tension to break, and just a second for everything to crumble and perish and lose all our progress.
you do it a second time. i feel my heart give up again, slightly tremble and stutter before it finds its normal rhythm again. your arm is so soft against mine, your skin sunkissed and glowing and it makes me want to,
i won't. i don't want to fuck this up. i don't want to lose you again. i want to see you more often, talk to you like we did before, have that trust in-between us like before, really know you again underneath the barrier you wrap around yourself and i swear it makes me want to cry, thinking about how much time we wasted and the dawning of the fact that after everything, after falling in and out of love these years, the smallest hope remains; i still wait for you. i think i'll always wait for you, because no one has ever made me feel like this: butterflies, they call it? it feels more like a kick in a gut.
and it hurts. it still hurts, so bad. it hurts because i don't ever think it'll be reciprocated like before; i don't think anything will ever happen and you're the only one who's ever made me feel like this and my eyes sting right now, they sting so bad
i let you sleep in my bed. it could've been so easy to pretend to fall asleep on you while we watched anime, because there's nothing i want more than to wake up in the morning, crack my eye open and see your face framed by your halo of golden hair. be able to get close enough to count your freckles and eyelashes again. snuggle up real close, brush our noses together, ghost my fingers through your arms. wait until you wake up so i can blink, blink and have my entire vision enveloped in shades of green; there's no name for your color of green, it's your green. but i'm older now, and i respect you, and i don't want to lose this to anything again, even if i have to entomb my feelings and muzzle my heart so it can shut up once and for all. even if you return the glances, the touches, even if you seek me out, even if you look at me for a second to long, or you blush from my compliments, i won't risk it, i promise. i won't lose our friendship again, i'll be the friend you need, i promise.