I was in the bathroom two nights prior-
Two beers deep and debating on messaging you.
I knew you were working and I didn’t want to blow your phone up but-
Alcohol has a way of melting the filter of deep fondness I have for you.
‘Tell him you miss him.’- my brain said.
‘Tell the man he is the hottest man alive’.
It became a battle that ended with a ‘I hope you’re doing okay’ message-
Because the care overrode the need to tell you that you’re the greatest thing since Taylor Swift was invented.
So then I went back to have my last beer,
Fighting the urge to message you more while I had a blast with my friends.
“You can message me anytime you want so don’t even stress about it.”- you’d said two nights later,
And I giggled because I knew that I’d spend the rest of the night telling you that you’re the next best thing to Taylor swift.
