Most people i know are sticky,
Not in a bad way or anything i just wouldn't let them touch me or stay in my bed.
People thought i was rude but thats just how i worked.
I look at people and i can tell if they're sticky and it might not be their fault,they were just sticky.
Then i met her.
She wasn't sticky, she was... nice, she was allowed to hold my hand and stay in my bed.
I didn't like it.
She had control over me like no one else had...she could look at me and i would get instant butterflies.
She could brush against me and i would get goosebumps running up and down my arms.
I was confused.
And the more time i spent with her the more i fell for her.
She could say something stupid and i would laugh because of how cute she looked while telling it.
She made me so happy.
But then.
I noticed.
The sticky.
Creeping up behind her like an old friend.
The more i looked the more I noticed.
When she smiled it wasn't as bright as it used to be.
I noticed small things like how her hands didn't look clean or her teeth didn't look brushed.
I started to hate the way she sat in my bed and held my hand.
I didn't get goosebumps when she brushed up against me.
I stopped smiling when she told me her funny little stories.
And i used to feel fake when i told her i loved her too.
Then it hit me.
She was sticky.
