Outer Space My Brain; Think Clearly.

Apprehension: it has been weeks, months, years since I've felt it. The cool, calm, collected facade I wish to portray in public is crumbling quickly. 'What do I say?', 'What do I do?', and even... 'What do I wear?' The over-analyzation is pure insanity, but essential. I desire, I yearn.

We’re out. I pray that the winds of the evening swallow my anxiety. I’m nervous. I’m thirsty. I drink a little more, to hydrate of course. The alcohol takes its toll. I lose what little control I have, or thought I had, over my seemingly rampant emotions. My mood starts swinging back and forth, like a pendulum on crack. Energetic, hopeful, ecstatic. Apathetic, morose, realistic.

I try to engage you, but I must not seem too eager. I attempt to ignore you, but I must not push you too far away. The balance is maddening. The debate in my head is exhausting.

 I grow weary. I confess that all hope seems lost. I’m tempted to retreat, to run away, to give up. Why continue to torture myself; the logic should be undeniable. I try to deny it. But, better to keep the walls up; better to protect what’s mine.

The pendulum stops. Apathetic, morose, realistic. My emotions are chosen by the gravity of truth. Fate has tempted me, it has tricked me. The opportunity for affection was tantalizing, delicious. Now I am left with the bitter aftertaste.

The bitterness shows on my face, apparently. You approach me. And you console me, though I insist nothing is wrong. I’m ready to leave. I’m ready to admit defeat. Yet, you won’t let me.

You’re close. You’re too close. Our hands drift dangerously close. The music is deafening. I can’t differentiate between the bass of the speakers and my own heartbeat. You whisper in my ear. I whisper back. You linger. I linger. We’re lingering, and I’m entranced. My eyes focus on yours. The eye contact is crucial. I’ve see you for weeks, yet now I see you. Our surroundings are melting out of sight.

The distance between us lessens. I fear fate’s trickery. It is too tempting; I give in. I submit to my overwhelming passion, my desire. It is quick, it is electric. Shocked, we both pull back. It is done. It is not over. We embrace. I am yours, I am alive.