Let Me Rest For Awhile

friendly winter; unpleasant spring

i would be rude if i told you i didn't like you because i was not even close to loathing you. i was so confused and immature and not much of a practitioner of anything. it was a chilly night but very friendly; the only thing that connected us were our mobile phones and that stupid app we joined, which led us to what we were that night.

we became aware of what we both felt. you were finally reaching out to me and i was dumbfounded with the unsettled questionable choice of words to which in the end, i realised you were confessing your feelings for me. you knew that your precarious ways would have my addled head play tricks on me but that's the point. let me tell you, it wasn't fancy or charming to have told me your feelings that way.

but i remember that night solid clear. not just the outline of it. i remember feeling too good that i thought i would never feel anything that way again and till date, i haven't felt anything like that. i remember the whole synopsis of that hour, that very minute. i remember noticing too many details, hearing too many unnecessary yeses and nos in my head. and i remember as the summer season slowly interrupts spring, i kept telling myself, "i should've reached out".