18 Oct

You use words like ‘retraction’ in conversation.

You know better than to believe in God, but more, you’re not afraid to voice that. You have strong opinions on medicine, on our classes and professors that I respect. You feel bad borrowing money from anybody. You brought me a superhero icepop to boost my mood.

You work hard in our classes. You miss your dog. You told me about the advisor you were so close to, why you want to be a doctor, your relationship with your brothers. You worked as a camp counselor with kids, dressed up like Captain America to amuse them. You chose physics as a major because you thought it was easy.

You’re brilliant, but not an obnoxious brilliant; a confident, quiet brilliant I adore.

You’re sexy as hell in your scrubs.

You text me smileys when you don’t know how to respond to something crazy I’ve said. You also reply with smileys when I can tell you’re smiling, which makes me smile when it comes through. When holding my breath, cautiously texting you that my bed smelled like you, you replied that your shirt smelled like me. Smiley.

You grabbed my hand to pull me to you in the bar, to dance, in front of your brother and friends. You were drunk, your hair was plastered down in your face. You were adorable. You took a drag on a cigarette. You told me how your parents would disown you had they found out.

There was the night you felt bad, I think, about being so drunk, or maybe about letting me walk home alone; you came over the next day, just to lay next to me. You like country music. You had pierced your ears. You think I’m crazy when I bite your neck, but baby, you’ll see. That will come with time.

You play with the ends of my hair when we’re lying in bed. Run your hands over my back, up to my exposed shoulder blades. Your foot touches mine when you want a kiss.  You called me your best friend, and you were willing to stop hooking up to preserve that.

Willing, maybe, but not able. You make me feel sexy.  We sat in the same row on the plane from New York; we made eye contact on several occasions. On the rickety plane from Trinidad and Tobago, you humored me as I made you continually check that the propellers were still working. At the airport, you exchanged my money while I watched your bags. You’ve said goodnight to me every night since we’ve gotten here.

Really, did I even stand a chance?


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