we’d been doing so well for awhile abstaining from each other, and i felt simultaneously proud and unfortunately needy. we were on his bed, the usual old thing, just sitting there bored together. he said he will end up alone because he will never find anybody perfect. i said perfection in humanity doesn’t exist, and he should lower his standards. he said that settling is sad. i said being alone is worse.

fast forward and i was laying down, and i can’t even remember what i was doing, but his face hung over mine. he was sniffing at me accusingly like a dog and i furrowed my eyebrows and scrunched up my face. all of a sudden i felt his mouth on my mouth, and for some reason i didn’t even realize it was a kiss at first. i thought he was just doing some weird thing. i was expecting it so little that i didn’t even fucking understand the gesture. then we looked at each other, he smiled at my awkwardness, i said “oh,” and then i kissed him back, and we kissed more and more, and eventually fell into that mish mosh of a divine blur that kissing brings. then we looked at one another again, and self-realization hit, and i was deflated. “what the fuck are we going to do?” i asked him, rubbing my forehead, once again plagued by conflicting emotions -  this time of satisfaction and of disappointment. he didn’t say anything, he just slipped under his covers slowly and peered at me from outside the blanket. i slipped under mine and peered at him back. not gazing, not staring, fucking peering of uneasiness and unsureness of ourselves around each other. then after we peered for awhile, we kissed some more. and our friendship goes back into the toilet before we barely emerged from it