A real mess

It started the same way all such things do.
Little looks,
witty remarks,
a random touch.
Harmless.
We had it under control.
We kept it in check.
We committed to containing it.
We played our parts perfectly.
Nobody got hurt.
But eventually,
it became too much.
We gave up.
Gave in.
We stopped trying.
The tension broke.
The wicked energy
that was festering between us
gushed out.
And it was exhilarating.
Like drugs.
But better.
I don’t remember how I got home.
I don’t remember everything we talked about.
But I do remember how good your lips felt.
And how my body responded to yours.
God, it was good.
I told myself it wasn’t a big deal.
I convinced myself it was a one time thing.
It was never going to happen again.
So we had a secret.
We created a mess
and it turned into a monster.
The quick looks started lingering.
The witty remarks got more risqué.
The random touches became frequent.
There was that moment on the stairs.
I turned the corner
and saw you at the bottom.
No one else was around
but anyone could’ve appeared.
You waited for me
and just before I hit the last few steps,
you put both hands on my waist.
I put my hand on your shoulders
and let you lift me down the last few steps.
And in that moment,
I knew it wasn’t over.
I knew I was in trouble.
I knew it was wrong.
But it happened anyway.
I woke up in a daze.
It felt good.
And now we made a real mess.
The first time he touched me after that,
it felt wrong.
I wanted to want him.
I needed to forget you
to save us.
But all I wanted was you.
It made me sick.
I was at war with myself.
I dug my heels into the ground
but I couldn’t get it under control
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??
WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?
Why do I want this?
How am I getting enjoyment out of this?
What sick part of me is ok with this?
Do you feel all this too?
Am I a terrible person?
What are we doing?
My relationship combusted.
I walked away
and I knew it was over.
For good.
I started to breathe easier.
I felt a small bit of relief.
I walked down the street with new purpose.
I found myself smiling at handsome strangers.
I caught myself enjoying the attention.
Yours included.
 
It happened again.
We made the conscious choice
To do the wrong thing.
Again.
And it is bad.
Unapologetic.
Unabashed.
Reckless.
So dirty.
So wrong.
It’s a fucking ball.
But the crash hit harder.
Reality tastes more bitter.
Guilt weighs down further.
We made the mess bigger.
And who cleans up?
I am taking myself out of the equation.
Before word gets out.
Before someone actually gets hurt.
I have to shut it down.
I will rip out the parts of me that still want you.
I will bury them deep in the ground.
I will burn them until there is nothing left.
I will slam the door shut for good.
I will tear myself away from you.
I have to free myself from the mess.
Who am I kidding?
We both know this isn’t over.

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