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I looked up from my spot on the floor, the paper slipping through my fingers like beach sand. There were so many things running through my head that I hardly noticed him slip his hand around my waist. An act of comfort, I suppose he interpreted it as. I didn't want to notice, to be honest. I picked a spot on the wall and looked at it. Oh no, not that spot. That spot held too many memories. .. That very spot spot on the very same wall which he first backed me up against. I shifted my gaze, careful not to move my head lest he noticed the faintest glint of emotion from me. The breeze from the open window blew the hair out of my ponytail, but I dared not readjust it. It was like someone had locked me in an emotional ice cube. I was frozen in body and mind. I knew this couldn't last. How long could I avoid this? He was right there. Hell, his arm was around my fucking waist. I had to do something.

Sighing loudly, I looked down at the tea-stained paper again, moving my chin slowly, maybe even seductively- I didn't know what the hell I was doing, anyway. The words seemed to laugh at me. Like every single letter sprouted some sort of mouth to open and just laugh at me. Lounging in the remnants of my worst fears coming to life. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't love him anymore. And yet, something pierced my heart when I think of his absence. I couldn't possibly handle that either. I was fucking swimming in adhesive material at that point. His arm was loosening it's hold on my waist. He couldn't possibly be able to read my mind now, of all the times. This, by far, had to be the climax of our love. It was now or never. I had to make a decision. His arm lingered on my waist now, his palm and fingers touching my skin enough to make it tingle. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my face, his Labrador eyes drooping slightly as he predicted my next move. I closed my eyes as his fingertips moved away. Away from me, away from three years of commitment, away from... love. My eyes were so tight I could almost feel my eyelids pushing against my cornea. It was now or never. We had made it this far. This was judgment day.

And I reached for the hem of my shirt.