Life was easier before I met you.
Even if you make it better.
I think I like you.
Your soft skin, infectious smile, and warm presence.
Your beautiful head of hair, scent, and the way you put that shit on.
You’re confirmation that God is real—and has favorites. The thought of you is a subconscious reminder that I want to be your favorite, even if I refuse to let it show. I don’t know how our lives would change if I were to let you know.
You talk to me differently. You tell me your feelings with conviction; you know exactly what you want. You have me questioning myself.
It freaks me out. It intrigues me. It feeds me.
You make me feel like I’m eating my first meal after my brain stopped alerting my body that it was hungry.
You make me feel like I’ve discovered my favorite song for the first time all over again.
You make me feel a level of comfort I’ve never felt before—and that’s not as comfortable as you’d think.
You say exactly what’s on your mind. Shit. You say exactly what’s on my mind.
That’s why I can’t help but open up to you.
The things I told myself I wouldn’t speak on seamlessly slip between my lips. The boundaries I set with myself when I discovered how extraordinary you are have been broken. The feelings I thought I had completely turned off came on for you.
What do I do?
This isn’t what I planned.
This isn’t who I am.
And who are you? I don’t even know you. You were no one to me like 15 weeks ago.
Now, you’re in my mind every day.
Frankly, you’re in my way.
How do you know when I want space? When I’m thinking about you? When I need you?
It’s invasive.
It’s persuasive.
It’s contagious.
Every time I see you, the conversations become more profound, the bullshit gets called out, and the real me further reveals itself.
It’s not okay to mentally undress people who didn’t ask for that.
It’s not okay to think before you speak, leading me to think about communicating feelings I’ve never had to articulate.
It’s not okay to waltz into my life being everything I’ve ever wanted when I’m not ready.
You’re making me relinquish all of the control I thought I had. You look composed. Is it because you’re draining all of my power? You’re making me question if I ever had any in the first place. Did you choose me because you knew you could take it from me?
Are you actively taking it from me?!
You get silent when we have tough conversations. I watch you listen to me verbally and non-verbally. It makes me feel unsettled. It makes me feel naked. I said I didn’t ask for you to undress me.
But the truth is, I’m undressing myself, and I can’t stop.
Make it stop.
Make me stop.
I’ve been desperately waiting to see the side of you that’s deranged. There’s no way you’re that sane. I’m not one who’s easily swayed.
What are you doing to me? Why are your fingers so entangled in the ridges of my brain? Who told you this behavior was okay?
It’s fucking me up.
YOU are fucking me up.
And the worst part is that I can’t even blame you.
You’ve been nothing but sexy to me. You’ve been nothing but bold, open, and honest.
I don’t know where you learned that.
I don’t know where you came from.
I don’t want you to go.
But the last time you saw me, you told me that you would. I can’t blame you. My past won’t let me be present with you.
So, I’m going to cherish our final moments before our era is over.
I’m going to soak up every laugh, touch, and second.
I’m going to miss you.
I don’t even know if I’m allowed to.
I’m going to let my actions articulate my feelings for you. I’m not sure if my ego will let me tell you with my words. I know that if I did, you’d say something like “Of course, you do. I’m Alisa Carradine.” Then I would roll my eyes, even though I’d secretly love it. But it wouldn’t be a secret at all.
And if there ever comes a point where the memories of you are overbearing, I’ll keep it to myself. Maybe I’ll even go to one of our date spots so that I can feel you. Even if it’s only for a little while.
Because I won’t allow myself to forget you.
🫰🏾🫰🏾🔥🔥
I am worried about you