Confused Somersaults.

“Hey.”

My stomach did somersaults. It’s probably from that free pasta I wolfed down from that non-date. Or is this guilt? Definitely not giddiness. Or maybe a bit of giddiness and a lot of satisfaction. Wait, why would I feel guilty?

“Are you mad at me?”

I look at you. Really look at you. I don’t know why I even like you. Liked you? You’re not even my type. We haven’t had a real conversation for months. Or any physical contact either. Can I just chalk up whatever this is (was?) to temporary insanity or obligatory bad decisions I have to make during my youth?

“What? No!”

What the fuck am I doing, exactly?

Forever is for everyone else
We’re off a couple secrets
Another lonely Tuesday home
Stolen kisses, is anyone near?

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