The little things

Dreams of smuged lipstick

Generally I have come to the realisation that I might be (probably am) aromantic.

Aromantic

One who lacks interest in or desire for romantic relationships.

Because romance, love, relationships it doesn't seem very me at all. The idea of it doesn't interest me, it doesn't make me feel.

But there are some times, like when it's dark and I'm in the back of the car, staring out the window as we drive back from a meal out, or other completely benign and mundane situations.

Times when I feel like I look good or I'm in a particular mood, when I'm wearing that gorgeous shade of lipstick, perfectly coloured and smooth on my lips.

Then, my mind wonders. And I find myself imagining the situation where it's a slightly rough kiss, but still full of love and passion.

The kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, but smiling and glowing none the less.

Where my lipstick is now smeared and I have left the most beautiful stains on their skin.

And then I realise, maybe this has less to do with me wanting a relationship, and more that it's a tiny sliver shining through the cracks.

A glimmer of hope, that I can be loved.