“What did I do wrong?” He asked, staring into my eyes, with his brown orbs piercing into mine, digging through my face for any expression he could grasp. But there was nothing there. Nothing to hold on to.
I always tried hard to conceal my emotions, masking it all away, not wanting to give away my vulnerability. He made me feel exposed, susceptible, and way too weak. The only good thing is that he wasn’t aware of it. To him, I was heartless or I simply didn’t care, he never said that but his eyes could always tell everything on his mind.
“Nothing,” I responded. His hands faintly grazed my thighs, giving them a slight squeeze causing me to inhale deeply. That mere touch traveled all the way to the tip of my toes, alerting my entire body.
“If you can’t say it, you could text it to me or write it out,” He persisted. My eyes darted down to his hands still on my thighs. He had this notion that I couldn’t fully express myself and he was right. I couldn’t convey intense feelings especially when the emotions were running right through me.
I couldn’t tell him that he was toiling with my emotions, steering me ahead when he had no plans whatsoever for us. He thought I was on the same page with him, just simply having fun. Only that it coursed deeper for me. Way too deep.
But, I was good at keeping quiet.
No, I couldn’t talk.
Not when I knew it would be me getting hurt at the end, the string barely holding us would come undone and there would be nothing left to hold on to.
I loved him, but love itself is never enough. At least not for me. What we were doing wouldn’t last, it was for a period. He couldn’t give me what I wanted and my heart knew that it would crumble if it went on.
It was all a facade.
Eventually, the feeling would fade away,