I wrote this story to vent some frustration.  Personally, I don’t think it is particularly good…the writing is really immature, but I felt I needed to clear my head.

I wish it had worked…


I wish I didn’t have this crush on you. I don’t want it anymore.

But I do.

I wish I had looked in your eyes when we were just inches apart, our heads bowed together, fingers almost touching over some project I was showing you. I wanted to kiss you then, badly, to surprise you while you concentrating on what you were doing.

But I didn’t.

I wish I had pushed you up against the wall and kissed you, hard, when you hugged me in the hallway. But instead I buried myself in your chest, so surprised that you stood up for me and happy to know what it was like to have your arms around me, even for just a minute. I wanted to think what it would be like if you were always there for me.

But I didn’t.

I wish I had crawled into your lap every single time you sat down across from me. I would fit so perfectly against you. I wanted my lips to graze against your ear when I whispered all the things I would do with you.

But I didn’t.

I wish I had put my hand on your knee while you were driving. I wanted to trace slow, lazy circles up and down your thigh. I wanted to stay for hours, listening to your deep, laughing voice while you drove. I wanted to run my fingertips along the back of your neck, through your hair where it just barely brushes your collar.

But I didn’t.

I wish I had asked you to warm me up instead of just standing beside you shivering in the cold. I wanted you to open your coat to pull me up against you, your chin resting on the top of my head. I wanted to feel your whole body against mine while we waited in that parking lot.

But I didn’t.

I wish we had driven to a dark, hidden spot. I wanted so badly to pull you into the backseat and straddle myself across your lap. I wanted to slip my hands up under your shirt and feel your skin. I wanted to slide my hands down past your hips and feel you harden against me. The cold would have made us rush, but no matter, I would finally have a chance to taste you.

But I didn’t.

I wish in an awful, terrible, selfish way that you were mine, even just for a few moments.

But you aren’t.

But most of all I wish I hadn’t shared my secret self, knowing it made no difference at all.

But I can’t.

1 Comment »

  1. brent Said:

    Wish it was me


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