C.U.TMRW

We showed up late, like we always do, you with that look in your eyes, me pretending not to notice. The house was loud, full of heat and half-empty bottles. I drifted to the kitchen, you to the music, but your eyes never left mine. Someone brushed against me, someone laughed too close, and I felt your stare like a fist in my spine. You pulled me to the balcony away from our company, like we had something to say, but neither of us spoke. Just your hand on my back, my fingers wrapped in the fabric of your shirt, like I’d fall if I let go. And in the switch between songs, in the static of our breath, I think we both knew, this wasn’t just a party.... This was the begging of our end.

I hope your hands never leave my waist,   not even at the party,   when the room fills with noise and strangers,   and I pretend I’m fine without you.   I hope you still find me,   eyes locked like magnets,   like we’re the only ones who know what this really is.   I hope you hold my hand when the music gets too loud,   when laughter feels hollow and the drinks blur the edges.   I hope you don’t let me drift away from you,   just to prove a point. I don’t have the courage to say but I always hoped you did. I hope you pull me back when I walk away,   pull me closer like the secrets that you keep,   like you’ve been waiting all night for the moment   where we stop pretending we’re just friends.   And when we step outside,   into the cold silence of the street,   I hope you don’t look away.   I hope you ask what I’m hiding,   even if it means hearing everything I’ve buried.   I hope you push me—n...

I watched you across the room, laughing too easily, smiling like nothing ever passed between us. You touched her arm, just a gesture, but it burned like fire on my skin. And I hated how I noticed. How I always notice. The music drowned my thoughts, but not the way your eyes found hers, The way you leaned in like I wasn’t even there. So I laughed louder,                                                                                                                     danced harder, stepped closer to someone who didn’t matter, just to see if you’d flinch. You didn’t. But then your gaze snapped back to mine sharp, possessive, like you were the one betrayed. You crossed the floor without a word...

Your hands around my lower back,  I fantasize about that. You’re so unreachable, yet you smile every time you see me. Over the loud music you scream, “I am so glad that you’re here,” and I reply, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You take my hand, I try to let go, but you pull tighter, so afraid I’ll slip away. I know what you’re doing: your smirk, your bouncy hair, your eyes in the dark. The tension of our eye contact, neither of us dares to look away, yet I feel I might break beneath your gaze. When someone comes near me, you grow jealous. You pull me close, whispering, “She belongs to me.” I like that you’re possessive over what isn’t yours. Do you want me to be yours? We dance with friends; another girl literally presses into you. I close my eyes, let the music carry me. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I keep peeking: she flirts, sliding closer to you. Now it’s your turn to put your arms around her waist or take her outside and do the things I dream of doing with...