Choices.

I tremble at the thoughts of almosts
with you,
it was like the after-rain smell in December
here in Singapore,
warm and fuzzy,
and almost like a warm embrace

we spent afternoons curled up watching movies
and rolled around talking about our futures together
if we were to fight,
you promised to always
be the first to talk to me
"we would never fight",
you convinced me with such ease
I believed you.

we never fought.

we just grew apart
in silence and passiveness
and the last 3 years,
while I was trying to pick up all the pieces
you had left me with,
for the first time last night
in my wildest dreams,
intoxicated by
liquid courage and
motivated by
things I never told you and
things you never told me -
our lips met.

From being so far apart
and having you draw me into you last night
felt all so familiar
but terribly sad,
all at once
everything felt like it was falling apart
again
but being pieced back together
almost

Usually, I would force myself to recall these things
and ingrain it into my long term memory
just to make sure I never forget
Last night was too much of a blur
with not much recollection
but,
with waves of emotions that I had to sit with today

I tremble at the thoughts of almosts 
with you
because you remind me that
my vulnerability
is something that you can
turn around and make it repeatedly stab me
right in the chest
and down in my stomach

Last night was a drunken choice,
but it was a choice
made by the both of us
so a little part of me hopes that somewhere between the kisses,
your heart strings were lightly pulled,
only lightly -
because I know you still love her,
and you remembered our
lazy September mornings and afternoons
at your house,
when we were only seventeen

where I felt
so unbelievably happy
and unbreakable
with you