Loving You From The Past

I don't know what made me do it.
I don't know why I'm so in tune with you.
I don't know why I can't get away from you.

I sat next to him.
With his hand around my wrist.
My fingers touching his face.

"I hate doing this,"
I told him.

"I hate not being with you,"
he told me.

"I hate the fact that you broke my heart."

"I hate the fact that I broke your heart."

"I hate that I can't hate you."

"I hate that you can't hate me too."

"I hate loving you."

"I hate you hating loving me."

I smiled and giggled.
He chuckled and stared into the ceilings.

I looked at his face.
His hair now a suitable style for a man his age.
His aging skin opening up wrinkles to his eyes and forehead.
His lips and how he talked; one side of it always go up and the other down.
His eyes, the hazel-brown set of swirls coming alive to my quick extinct.

He aged so well.
His face still looking young.

I felt slightly jealous.

I looked around his room again.
To read the letters and how they
were all addressed to one person.
It didn't have their name, but it
looked like love letters.

"Gerard, what are all those letters taped on the wall?"
I asked him quietly.

"Just some things I wanted to tell someone,"
he replied.

I nodded.
Laid on top of him.
With my nose touching his nose.
And kissed his lips gently.

He smiled,
putting his arms around my waist.

"I thought you didn't want to do anything,"
he said softly.

"I lie a lot."

I kissed his lips once more.
But quickly got to the robotic
movement of his muscles.
I couldn't stop but kept
stuck to his lips with my
tongue in his mouth.

I grabbed his hair.
He grabbed my shirt.
I pulled his shirt.
He pulled my shirt.
Pulling it over my head.
Pulling it over his head.
He held my breast.
Putting it in a circular rhythm with his thumbs.

"Gerard, I'll alway come back to you,"
I whimpered out.