Febuary 14th

'You can't get tired of Freedom.'

So on Valentine's day, I went out with a friend. We just wanted ice cream. By 10pm. We didn't expect anywhere would be closed so early but shockingly it was. This is not a story about our adventure, it was a very boring one. Music, Weed, lights and lots of half naked people. This is a story of how I fell in love with the touch of a certain fellow over night.

It was a hot old music studio, we sat on the old peeling couch talking about all the things we loved to do. All the people we love or rather the girl he loved. I was much more into the music of the night. Then slowly we slipped into something else, something I've never felt before, I don't know about him but I knew life that day. A little joy, a little pleasure in between. He ran his fingers down my arms, pulled my strings like he would his guitar.  

Then we talked some more, about things other people loved, the people we know, it's sad thinking about now. Then he kissed me, he kissed me like he meant it, like it was me he had in mind, I kissed back like I meant it. It didn't take long for hands to travel, for feelings to fly over our heads. He pulled back and looked into my eyes, I wonder what he was looking for. I found what I was looking for, nothingness.

He kissed me again, told me he loved the feeling of my hands on his face, it probably felt like temporary joy, the same way his hands felt in between legs. Pulling me close, taking me high up, giving me the little love he had left over from his broken heart, replacing my pain with something new.

I fell asleep buried in his warmth, I woke up the next morning cold and alone. We're never going back there though, we don't talk anymore. I wonder if he still remembers. Don't be mistaken, I don't love him. It's just the idea of him.