Infatuation Station.

Y’know what I’m sick of? Melodramatic adults acting like troubled teenagers. I’m sorry that you also struggle with mental illness, I’m sorry that your life isn’t “perfect” – but c’mon. Cut me some slack. I have my own issues, my own qualms, and to be expected to deal with another’s is absurd.

I’m not going to deal with people that are a hassle anymore, because I’m worth more than that. I met a guy who makes me feel that way, y’know.

Well, actually, I’ve met quite a few. But this one has reignited that familiar feeling, that funny familiar feeling, that feeling I haven’t felt for some time.. I’m sure you know it. The one that makes your days feel like a decadent cake with buttercream icing, rather than a bag of potatoes. And they don’t even have to be physically apart of the day. You could day dream for hours or days or forever, and it just feels so exciting and good.

Of course, he isn’t my boyfriend. Or well, even my friend.

I’ve pulled into infatuation station, and let me tell you how it happened.

It’s the same story as any. You meet, you click, you talk deep into the night, you dance, you laugh, and you go your separate ways. Then fate decides that’s not the case, so you keep bumping into each other. You rinse and repeat that same night in all its bountiful chemistry and then finally, when it’s too late for nightclubs but too early for the sunrise, you’re caught in the nights fresh rain and run from the well lit streets into the darkness of a covered alleyway.

As you catch your breath and things go quiet… Your mind runs blank.
The rain and silence amplify the tension. You’ve discussed it, the palpable chemistry, the playful and natural vibe.. You both know you can’t, for it’ll lead to nothing but trouble.
You reason, it wouldn’t hurt now, would it? A single kiss for a single night? But you’re not single, and neither is he. This thought is brief, you’ve resisted too long, every damn time you’ve pulled away or blushed.  You’ve had a few drinks, and he’s had a few too, but it’s not just that.. There’s so much more, but so much less. Powerful and simple. Primal. You’re locking lips, tongues dancing to the tune of a light drizzle and the sweet taste of peppermint gum.

You break away and turn on your heel, buzzing on this new found high.

You walk in to the light, back into the rain, feeling excited beyond measure.

And then you go your separate ways.

The worst part is… I don’t even know his name. It’s all so illusive, so ill-fated. I love and live to self-sabotage, I deserve nothing more, to my own logic. But he makes me feel a little less tragic, a little less sad.

Will fate pull us back together?

Time will tell.

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