I don’t think I can handle this. You’re making me feel like I’m crazy. I know there’s nothing there. And given this situation, her being gay, I’m not concerned about anything happening. I actually do trust you though. Something I never thought I’d believe. But still my stomach twists up. Even if nothing happens, you probably like her hips; even if- you probably like her sharp humor; even if- you probably like her confidence & talent; even if- you probably like her listening ear. And the way you look at her sometimes when you talk, it makes me feel something I can’t explain. Not anger, not jealousy, but something unsettling. Something that makes me want to up and hide. Shuts me down and sobers me.
I can text you. I can call you. But it’s not the same.
It’s not the same as laughing with you
It’s not the same as being near you
Feeling your hands squeeze mine
Stretching the webbing of my fingers.
Feeling your voice vibrate your chest
Petting your bear hair. Arm hair. Chest hair.
It’s not the same as kissing your lips.
Feeling your sizable hands on my leg
My stomach. My chest. Wrapped all around me.
Feeling like I can melt into you
Into certainty and tenderness.