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I stood there in the snow wishing you could read me; I was always so terrible with introduction. You were a face holder. I hated that about you. It made me nervous, the way youd wrap your huge palms around my wishing to be kissed cheeks. You were so confident I assumed you must be hiding something. You could take over momentarily with a smooth gesture of you arms, your fingers armed with explosives snaking through my hair taking hold as your palms pressed and lifted my face. I imagined your tongue might taste like vanilla but our breath mingling smelled like cigarettes and a poor attempt at mint. Your voice was helplessly patronizing and disarmingly disastrous. You whispered..."youre beautiful," near explosion and unable to bear your sweat any longer I wrapped my fingers around the back of your hands squishing my fingertips between your sweaty palms and my anger flushed cheeks. I paused for a moment distracted by how strong your hands felt under mine, the hair gathering between my fingers..."good then," I said "love me and I can hate you for it." You were so personably distant it glued me. I took office in analyzing you while you crashed casually into my heart. You were the impermanence I used as target practice. You pushed your hand through my hair roughly. I would have told you I hated that but it seemed pointless, you had my attention. You looked at me with planted confusion. You always used your mouth in the most peculiar way. "You know what you are?...a train wreck in pink shoes and a mini skirt." I blushed, suddenly visible; you seemed to capture me like a firefly glow. I said, "Am I? I always wanted to be inanimate." You laughed and I knew it was because you had mastered my humiliation. I thought you must consider me shockingly predictable, that is if you considered me at all. Hating you for making me so tauntingly vulnerable, I told you, with words that exercise in uniform, "you're so typical it makes my eyes water." I let the freezing air fill my lungs as it occurred to me my only option was surrender. With that I decided you would be the one to unglue me for good.

Learn more about this author, Meghan Peake.
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