Somehow you end up convincing me to meet with you at the same coffee shop we used to go.
We order the usual and sit down. Your eyes seem tired and your hair is long. I can't tell if it's you anymore.
"Why did you ask me to come?"
"I'm sorry for being so insistent. But we needed to talk." My lungs start failing. I can't do this to myself.
"You know it. I know it. Let's not do this anymore."
"But I-" I cut you off. I have to get out of there or I'll pass out.
I have started walking to the opposite street when I feel your hand on my arm and suddenly I don't know what's happening.
Your lips are against mine, and suddenly I'm not in control of myself anymore.