Nostalgic, the perfect word to describe how I feel right now. I can't get it out of my head. The way it felt when he grabbed my waist. How my heartbeat raced, my breathing became sharp, my body tensed and then he'd kiss me and I would feel like I'm floating. He would go down to my neck and my soul would leave my body then and there. The way he looked at me. How he would bite his lower lip whenever I did something even moderately cute. The madness in the way he wanted me. The high. The laughs. The bad and the good moments. The promises. Most of all how I was the only one. The one who he needed and wanted me. I was chosen by him out of so many pretty girls (both looks and personality wise) everyone wanted him but he only wanted me. The way his eyes spoke of his commitment to me. The way he expressed how he felt not through word but from the way he kissed. The way his hands travelled all around my body. The way he touched a wild part of me and set me free in a way no one ever could. I was sick of it. The memories. The way he grabbed my hair. The way he made me feel about myself. The pictures of us. The moments full of love and joy, I couldn't take it. It was way too much. I was begging now. Begging for it to stop. The nostalgia. I had memories I didn't want. They were hurting me now. I felt like an addict. Addicted to him. He was a very bad drug. A drug which I longed for. It was like burning from inside out, not being able to hear his voice, not being able to see him, not being able to talk to him and not making any contact fearing that he go even farther away. The way I love him would be the end of me. Stop please dear heart, stop.
{preferred background music: Wrong Direction- Hailee Stienfeld}
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Dusk Till Dawn
RomanceI am wide awake. At 3 am, and all I can think about is him, turned to his left, left cheek squished onto his pillow, eyes shut, not tight shut but gently shut. Him breathing quietly and a soft light from the window falling upon his face. Sleeping. A...