Uncertainty

When I first met you . . .

The blissful touch of your increasingly warm hands.

The touch of awkwardness, the bad electricity.

Why didn't I stop?

Was I afraid of your reaction?

Your hurt feelings?

When your lips touched mine . . .

I though I was going to puke.
I hadn't imagined the uneasiness to be this high.

Now I feel like my lips are stained with yours.

Never will they be the same.

Your hands on my thigh . . .

GET IT OFF!

No more...

Let the nightmare STOP!

The uncertainty is overwhelming me.

I need to let myself breathe.

In this realm of the uncertain.