He offered his friendship after offering me the world. When I asked him to define what this meant, do we hang out? do we do things together? or are we now just one of those acquaintances who hangs out in the periphery of each others lives with no actual face to face interaction?
What does it mean to have that intimacy hanging between us, do we simply pretend it never existed?
How do I look into your eyes during a conversation and not remember the way they used to smolder for me?
What happens if our bodies brush up against each other, how do I deny the fire that used to ignite under just your fingertips?
What happens if we find ourselves alone together…my hands would always wander…I spent hours learning every curve and muscle in your body.
I know how your back feels beneath T-shirts, dress shirts, your uniform and bare. I know the tiny flat mole that lies just beneath your left shoulder, near your tattoo.
I know the slope of your neck that my head fit perfectly into, where I would lay kisses as you slept to calm your twitching body, your mind wracked with unrest.
Am I suppose to act like I am not thinking of these things? Or worse…that I know the weight of your body on mine, the way your tongue tastes in my mouth after being inside me, the way I feel straddling your lap, sliding myself wet and warm around you…
How do I look at you and not let these memories pool into my eyes…
Just friends? after all of that?
How can I?
How can you?