You find me writing in the park bench right in front of the fountain.
I was wearing your letterman jacket you let me borrow last night.
You sat beside me and
I hurriedly stashed everything away.
You looked at me quizzically. What’s that?
I waved nonchalantly. Just receipts and stuff.
You held my hand. Probably a good five to ten minutes of hand-holding.
You walk me home. A quietness bordering on awkward and comfortable.
I took your jacket off. Here, thanks for letting me borrow it.
You took it. No problem. Bye!
I planted a kiss on your lips. Bye.
I shut the front door and searched my pockets. Shit.
- I like you.
- I like hanging out* with you.
- I don’t love you.
- I am a crazy person.
(*) may or may not involve hand-holding and kissing