Have you ever done ecstasy? For me it was like every vain in my body had icy electricity coursing through them. Like my heart had never felt so full. Id, never felt more content with just existing. That’s what it felt like when he touched me. He was my ecstasy. And I was hooked. Hooked to the sarcasm that dripped from his lips like the sweetest honey, and hooked to the freckle in his left iris, the contrasting speck of dark brown was intoxicating in that pool of blue. but mostly I was hooked to the way he looked at me, and talked to me, and lastly, the way he touched me, the way he tangled his fingers in my auburn hair, the way his fingers would so delicately trace the curves of my back. for three glorious years he treated me like I was the finest champagne. Then he stopped. And I was impacted with a force that suffocated me, I was so content with my high, so used to it, I had forgotten what it felt like to have my feet planted on the ground, but I didn’t even have that luxury, I was knocked to the ground, hands and knees scraped up from the rocky gravel that was heartbreak. With just a sentence my whole world had vanished, “I think it be easier if we were just friends.”

Leave a Comment: