we sat on front porch steps that afternoon, trying to fix things while knowing there was nothing we could do about it. nothing but silence until i finally took your hand and said,

“you know, your hands are cold and i like holding them. and i love your eyes. it kinda relaxing to look into. and your voice, some nights i confuse them for a blanket-- well that’s not a confusion, that’s intended,”

“yaya, please…”

i bit my lips so hard so tears wouldn’t fall, at least at the moment. “i mean everything single thing i said. i didn’t do that for trying to get you back. it’s just.. people say never left things unsaid,”

then you pulled me into your arms.

“i would like to kiss you, but we both know that won’t fix this problem. besides, it’s gonna be a goodbye kiss. i don’t like the idea of a goodbye kiss.”

“me neither. i don’t want a kiss, i want another chance with you.”

“but you already gave up on me.”

and i said nothing. because you were right and i hated it. i fucking hate that nothing could fix it all.