Short Stories

Spring.

"Writing is so much better when you write it from where you feel it. Raw. Let it be raw, let it be raw. The passion and fire from within. Put it into words."

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It happened again in winter. I saw you and immediately I was hooked. Addicted.

In recent times, now that I'm much older, and so are you I realize what it was. 

You were broken and I wanted to fix you, I wanted to change you. That's why I was so attracted to you. That's why I am still so attracted to you, but I can't help myself. 

I'm more mature now, in every way. And you, you're there just across the street minding your own business, doing your own thing and I can't will myself to stop from looking out the window into your yard when all I crave is to look into your eyes. 

Now, I have means to contact you but I can't. When it comes to you I can't speak, I can't move. You have rendered me immobile.

How dare you!

The longer days of spring allow me to see more of you, the shorter nights allow me to think of you. Your touch, your body touching mine. The way I would touch you if I could. The way we could literally melt into each others arms.

I could see it, us spending the summer together, travelling but going no where. Speaking with no words. I could literally stay with you forever until forever could no longer sustain us. 

But yet, none of these would ever happen. There is so much that can go so wrong.

What's in my head isn't real.

You don't even feel the same because I'm sure if you did you would try as you see I am.

So I stay in vein. 

Next time you see me see you. Smile, wave, wink, something to let me know that this is real. That you're real. 

That maybe, one day we could be real...

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This shit ain't a joke.