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I met Fabiola, the two of us have always been scarily in sync, as if we had choreographed this life in a past one and were only now getting to perform it.
Wwowowowowowooww
“What comes after?” “After what?” “After the first kiss, the first touch.” “Well… depending on the person, it turns into something deeper. Something even more intoxicating, even more thought disabling.” “Wow.” “Yeah.” “I want that.”
REAL.
“Honey, you asked for this. The universe is rewarding you.” “I change my mind! I don’t want to do this. I want to be alone and comfortable. Screw a connection!”
He is me
What a horrible weight it is to be silent when you want to shout, to hold back when you want to reach out, to freeze when you want to melt.
