Uncharmed

A little something to show proof of life.

I like how we both pretend to have it all under control with each other when every part of us shows how our control is bursting at the seams. While we sit and talk about politics and life in the office, maintaining a facade of focus and business, our fingers and legs are tangled under the table.

 

This isn't me, but at the same time, it is exactly like me. What I should have said is that this isn't the me that many people get to see. The most common version of myself is open, with all my emotions and thoughts spelled out for everyone to see and feel. With you, I restrain myself from texting professations of love in the middle of a work day because I can't predict your reply. I used to do that when we first met, but you never reciprocated.

 

I don't want you to think I'm in love with you, because I'm not. I don't like that you act immune to my charms. I know you're not immune to them from the way you hyperfocus on my lips when I talk to you. I have given up just as many times as I have come back to you. I give up, and two days later you text and call and look at me with your slanted eyes, and I am sucked back in. It's like you're playing me like I planned to play you; the only difference is that you're winning.