kena

What if?

In address on July 31, 2012 at 12:00

It was an ideal moment.

We saw the bus leaving as we crossed the street. Twenty minutes to kill, at least ten with nobody around.

Content after a productive day. Content from a clement weather, the kind where it is pleasurable to be outside. Carefree, confident in success to come in the following days, the following week.

You finished your statement; I had nothing to add. We agreed. I was leaning on one side, you were at the side opposite. You made two steps to stand closer. With my sunglasses on, you could not distinguish where I was looking at. I removed my glasses, you saw I was looking at you, and you were looking too.

This is when I felt the sparks fly. My heart missed a beat, then accelerated. I felt bigger and greater, more powerful.  I felt the world revolved around us. You did not merely look blazingly hot; you looked perfect.

There was just one step to make.

I would have put my hands on your waist; leaned forward, then stopped five centimetres shy of your lips. You would have been responsible for the rest. I thought you would perhaps ask what I was doing. I was prepared to say you had two options, including holding me in your arms for a short while.

I wanted to; but I did not dare. I might, still; after all there are no rules. I fear rejection, just a little. But really what I fear is destroying what we have built so far by pushing too hard. Am I too careful?

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