Boys and Gag Reflexes

Last night, I was awake but trying to sleep and thinking about what you said over text just 10 minutes ago. It was tempting, clever (and a bit not PG), _____

Okay, so sleeping was out.

3AM fueled on Nutella and temptations. I haven't said your name out loud for 2 whole hours and I can't seem to force it past a whisper because I know the only thing I'll really hear is "regret... regret... regret".

This, this civil war - lungs vs head. They're screaming silent pleads for the other to give. And the only reason the lungs have their strength is because my head, against it's will, has to remind them, "inhale... exhale". It's his job.

And I can't find it in my head to stop telling my lungs to inhale after exhaling. It's an automatic response. "Hey, I hate you but you need to inhale, and then exhale." Because sometimes my lungs do embarrassing things like hiccup when I call you on the phone or act more like gag reflexes when you send me texts like 10 minutes ago. See, it would be easy if I just told them to stop. Exhale. Exhale. Exhale. But I can't. It's his job.

The war continues.

I'm not here for my lungs or my head, and this is called overreacting because it's isn't the most charming text but could be the most daunting and I'm hanging on your sentence like its redemption.

 

Diamond Fangs,
Miss Carter

$10 anyone?

I bet you my cat and my mom that two kids live in those two houses and they come out on their basically conjoining roofs outside their bedroom windows and talk and sometimes don't even talk and are best friends and fall in and out of love and back in again so fast it's like they don't even have time to hang up all their photos they take of each other.