Bubble Wraps

I think I like him. A lot.

“Ok la, ok what”

I think I love him. I think I don’t. I think I do. I think maybe not.

“You think a lot”

He is handsome. I think he is. I think he has a really nice frame. I think he is compassionate.

“Picture perfect”

A chiseled torso.

“Walao, crazy this girl”

POP.

I think I love him. I think I definitely love him. I don’t think there’s anything not to love about him. I think he is hot.

“Hot”

• 

I think it’s in the way he really tried to understand without frowning, or maybe the way he walks. I think it’s because he does not touch me. I think, I like that he does not touch me.

“Woah, then sex must have been surely hot”

I think it’s because he knows how to grab where it is correct. I like how the space between his hands, fits like a puzzle against the hollow of my iliac crest well. I think he wants to be inside me. I think love is warm. I think maybe, he could like me. If he is not too broken, if he is not too — thinking.

POP.

I think now, I really really, without doubts. I like him.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder”

I actually think, I miss him. I miss him being quick with his feet, crossing the street. And I am left worried.

I miss him. I think I miss him. I miss him even more badly now. Ok, it’s real. I miss him. I decidedly miss him. I miss the anger. I am missing my anger.

POP.

“Just get married”

No. Hell. Way. Are you out of your mind? And then what? My whole life! I’d need to put the toilet seat up, I need to do the right thing and start creating another creature, and I lose my peace just to take a piece of shit! Do you actually think it is worth it?

“You have to find a boyfriend”

I like him a lot. This is turning out to be so bloody romantic.

“Annoying la, you just annoying me”

POP.

I like him. I think I like him. This time, I am sure.

“Sure or not”

Sureeeee.

“why you like him”

I think he is handsome.

And I think he would kiss me softly, slowly from below my chin, to the valleys of our chest. Ah men! I think he would just want to have plain sex with me. I think he is strong, I think he is loving, I think he cares. I think he is a nice person. I think he would dance with me

“is he a nice guy?”

As long as he hasn’t said he is a nice person, I think it is ok. I can still be liking him. Nice, for the sake of Christ, has got to be imagination.

“out of sight, out of mind”

Are you a good friend? Are you not helping me? To hell with this!

“give it to me”

POP.

“then never go out again ah?”

POP.

Actually. That’s true.I can’t remember rubbing skins. I can’t remember a smell. I can’t remember how brief the day was, I can’t remember how many moons it took to confess. I can’t remember why everything had to go by how I timed it. I said I have no friends.

“you think too much”

I think, he was really calm. I think people in the coffee house liked us. I think the entire day is like a painting. I think my barista was on my side because he is my barista. People who make food behind the coffee counter know everything. They see how the world passes across them. I think I thought I was pretty. A few days after.

POP.

POP.

POP.

I think I will have to be happy.

“it is a habit”

POP.