Colection of Randomness

Not Again

It was not like I didn't want to listen to Madam because I know how important that matter was. I was intently listening to her and everything was in focus. I could remember what her talk was about, not word by word but in thought i memorized it.

But a streak of black flashed by my peripheral vision. Even if it was just a blur I knew it was you. I did not spend more that two years looking at you t

o easily not recognize that jacket of yours.

So I turned look at you. I almost panicked when I saw your state. You were gasping for air. It was difficult for you to breath.

Everything droned out. I lost my focus on what Madam was saying and I concentrated on your well being instead. My mind was racing to diagnose what was wrong and how can I help you.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I could hear my concern roiling in waves. And I reached and touched you.

But then, I realized who I am, who you are and what we are. I recoiled my hand as if I was burned. I looked away, ashamed with my loss of control and for showing how I was still vulnerably emotional when it comes to you.

I was ashamed, yes. But I realized one thing. Despite everything we've been through, I don't want to get you hurt for the life of me. I just want you to be happy even if it kills inside every time I see you with someone else.