To whomever "The next letters"

A Story by Nicholas

To Whomever,

My body has had some adaptations that I’ve acquired overtime. My ears have learned to love the soothing sounds of Sinatra and Astaire. But the most peculiar of them that I find to be both a virtue and a vice, is the ability to separate what I’m going through in my head, and my body. For instance my body will be showing nothing, and my mind will be going “whatamigoingtodowhatsnextaskherdontaskhergoforitdo

nttalktoheraboutitdontyoulllookstupidwhenareyougoingt

ogetyourballsbackandkisshertalktoherdoesshefeelthesam

eokdontlookatherlikethat…….” Which will go on for hours, days, months, and my ability to calm it down went out with my last cigarette. The best description is that inside I’m bat f*****g s**t crazy.

The best example that I can think of would be this girl that I am madly attracted to her, the metaphor about the moth to a flame doesn’t do it justice. But two years of buildup, “flirtingnotflirtingtalkingnottalkingboyfriendsgirlfriendst

ellherhowyoufeelnoyesnoyes…….no” And all lead to a snowy night in December.

Throughout the night I couldn’t help being reminded about how insanely attracted to her I was, the snow falling on her coat and hair coupled with the mixture of 79 cent flavored cigars smoke and the cold air escaping her lips only added to it, and made the act of separating the craziness in my head from my body language harder. From venue to venue it became progressively harder.

When it was nearing the end of the night, and I needed to be leaving, and I felt the urge to finally do something. When she walked around the car, the snow falling all around her, and the clouds of cold air coming from her lips only extenuated her physical attraction my head was calm strangely, like auto pilot. We hugged, and then I felt a primal urge to kiss her, which I suppressed many times before, but not this time.

“You should go home” she said

To which I replied, “I don’t want to go home now”

My courage was at an all-time high, also the feeling of being high filled me. Then the buzz kill of learning of another who beat me to the punch, it was just my luck and timing. We meet again a few days later, I drove her to work, and wanted to kiss her and drive at the same time, which is what I tried to do surprisingly effectively I like to think so.

But I can only hope that maybe she’ll sit at her laptop and read this, and figure out things she probably already knows. And the craziness in my head at the moment won’t show in my body, driving her away. And i wont end up like the wolf sitting howling at the moon hungry and lonely.

Sincerely,

Another Anonymous Writer