I've never been so scared in my life.
After three years of guilt-free skinlessness, who would've thought that in one night, every vestige of self-denial and false bravado that I've built would crumble.
After years of going through every imaginable zipless encounters without ever feeling any semblance of remorse or fear, I've never feared for my life more than I do now.
Every kiss that we exchange, where we both try to pull something out from each other each and every time, if not a bit savagely, brings me closer to my impending death. Death, all over again, that's for sure.
It's not as disconcerting as the others. We separate with a trace. Butterfly-like purple bruises ran their path along my arm. It's a cruel reminder that you had been here. You had been with me.
Still, it's not as if we were trying to steal whatever that we have. Maybe it's not so cruel at all. Maybe it's just right.
Ah. Disillusionment at its fever pitch.
Atleast, now I'm taking a real risk.
I understand that this is the make or break phase.
I'll make it or I'll break.
Sooner or later, I'll pay the price for this thin slice of happiness.
Ain't it grand?