Worse

      I never told you how fast my heart beat when you looked at me like I was your winning lottery ticket, or how my chest feverishly caved in when you gently ran your fingers through my hair, because telling you that meant breaking all of this down. Breaking down these iron walls I had worked so hard to build. But it didn’t take long for you to realize you had impossibly seeped through a crack or two, and when you did, the most terrifying thing happened… you pressed that contagious smile to my lips and told me I had your heart in the palm of my hand. And I fell for it. Your innocence. Your gentle, slow kisses. Your fingertips softly tracing down the spine of my back. Your ecstasy. Your hands... God, your hands. And your uncontrollably passionate lips pressing against my mouth. Your arguments, your laughs, your midnight "I love you's." I fell for all of it, crashing to the ground, feeling the chronic pain of every single one of my bones breaking for you. And to tell you the truth, I've been walking around for weeks... feeling like I never really got up. So, remember when I told you you weren't like the rest? I was right. You were much, much worse.