All in a moment's notice

This is a mental note. This is an archive. This is a reminder, a "saving the date for future reference" post. This is me keeping a time-line of the story behind the scenes. This is me being a pessimist and mentally preparing myself for the backlash of the whip.


Monday night was not supposed to be like this.
I was not supposed to let you hold my hand, nor give me a hug like you and I were not just mere acquaintances, or at most friends; a hug that gave me inappropriate mental images and left my head whirling.
I was not supposed to talk to you for hours on end like nothing as ever happened and we are two people simply getting to know each other.

But I did.
And I'm not sure exactly what happened. I don't know if it was something you said, or if it was something you did. I don't know what the hell it was, but it got me good.

I'm starting to let my guard down with you.
Looking back, last night, I did things I'd never done in the 5 months I've known you. I let myself stop freaking out about the meaning and implications and situations and just really enjoyed the moment.
I laid my head on your lap, and looked up at you. We talked for a bit. I took your hand and placed it on my cheek, so you would touch my face. You traced your fingers lightly, almost tenderly, and I felt joy. We talked, I laughed and forgot about the boundaries and consequences, I stopped the screaming voices in my head and just relished the moment.
I even reached up for a kiss, which you landed on the tip of my nose with a smile. For a split second, it crossed my mind that the moment I was relishing in was not with the person I have those kind of moments with, Babes. It was with you, Jacob wannabe.
That night... It was rather memorable to me...
but you... you drove home and disappeared away into the night, into reality, into life and I crash land into the world off of cloud 9 wondering when I'm going to feel the sting after the burn and if I'll be able to handle it with grace. I hope so.
Until then, I'll just hang on to that moment, that little trace of what could be but will not.