It’s you again.
I deleted our conversations. Deleted your number. I told my heart to forget you. And yet my mind hoards memories like a starving orphan. My heart stirs with treacherous longing.
The look in your eyes. I can’t forget the way your eyes would light up when you saw me. The ways your eyes would flash with delight and desire. The boyish smirk that would cross your lips when I told funny stories.
Your laugh. A study in contrasts. Your head would droop, your eyes would shut tightly. Your torso would shake so violently, and yet you’d barely make a sound. I loved making you laugh.
Your voice during our late night conversations was enough to make my body ache with lust and desire. You never had to touch me. You just had to speak and I would long to be in your arms.
I told my heart to forget you. My heart is a rogue renegade. I try to build case after case against you:
- Your breath stinks….sometimes lol
- Your teeth… are crooked
- You’ve slept with one woman, and kissed a few others… so easily… always so easily
- You are prideful
- You are deeply wounded
- You are confused
- You think you want a Latina…. a Latina I am not
- You’re weird…awkward… and sometimes annoying
- You’re not as mature as I would expect for someone of your age
- You’re not as accomplished as I would like for someone of your age
- You don’t reciprocate in the ways that I want you to
- You don’t love me and appreciate me the way I want you to
But these petty grievances are not enough to quench the burning ache. I FUCKING LOVE YOU! I want to be with you.
- You’re so passionate
- Your sense of humor has me laughing for days and constantly on my toes
- You want to do better
- You love people
- You are oh so intelligent, and oh so humble about it… to the point of insecurity, which is really sad
- You’re tall
- When it’s summer, your skin tans to a delicious light brown…. like caramel #melaninpoppin
- You’re handsome. Your hair, your smile (I love your smirk), your body (that I haven’t seen lol. Virgin here)… especially your arms. How many times have I imagined those same arms holding me
- Your inner strength…. you’ve gone through shit. And yet you’re still here, still kicking
- Your faith.
I told my heart to forget you. As I drowned my sorrows in bitterness, eating its fruits, I thought that at last, at last I had reached the point of no return. I was ready to bid you adieu once and for all. I imagined you moving to NY and finding another woman… a Latina to be with, that would make you happy. I imagined feeling so free and happy for you. I was ready to move on. Or so I thought.
But my fucking heart. Can’t. Forget. You.