5alvani

"Is everything all right?" The security guard asked as he made his post-midnight rounds. I took a last look at what once had been my place of choice, and told him that everything was indeed "fine." But what I really wanted to do was run to his vehicle, and tell him that everything wasn't fine, that I couldn't get a certain boy out of my head. That I'm madly in love and it's eating me inside, with acidic anticipation, and the slippery lack of resistance one feels when trying to hold steadfast to an ideal. How I longed to be in his arms, go back to that night Downtown where he held me close... our bodies mingling together in a dance of hope, the breath of something so sincere embracing my neck. But there are certain things you can't tell late-shift security guards.