She leaned up to kiss me...and it all broke. I couldn't kiss her. I couldn't let her kiss me. It was...wrong, somehow, to have someone kissing me. As lovely as she was...I couldn't just kiss her. I think I jumped away, stammered an apology, and escaped out the front door and holed up in the cafe next door until my sister found me. She said the girl wanted to know if I was alright. *Shakes head* I let everyone stay dancing and stuck around the cafe until they decided to drive home, without going back into the club.
It's been almost two months. I'm not going into woe is me territory, since that's not quite how I work, but...I still miss her. She calls on the occasion, but the last time I saw her was when we had dinner. I'm starting to dive when the phone rings. What the hell?
In any other state, after last night I would have a phone number written on my hand and a date tomorrow. I haven't gone through this scenario often, but on the rare time or two that's how it worked out. But now, when a pretty girl tries to kiss me, all my mind can drag up is pink hair and combat boots. I'm still a bit in love with her, it seems. I'm supposed to be getting over her. That was the plan. It seems to just be going nowhere.