When I first saw you, I did not think I would ever be inclined to start a conversation with you. You had an aura around you that seemed to constantly warn others from making any form of contact, as if a single touch or look would result in unexplained convulsions and a sudden loss of blood. When I first met you, I confirmed my suspicious and tagged you as someone cold, an emotionless human being unwilling to share even the whitest of lies with another individual. And so we went on our separate ways and never did I think I would see you again. But see you again I did. Not just once, but multiple times. Our opinions would clash, like two alphas trying to assert their dominance over the other. Mutual friends would notice the obvious tension, some even asked why we continued to linger around each other for as long as we did. (Thirty minutes did not seem long at all). It seemed as if we were moons to a planet drawn into the same orbit but heading in opposite directions. So when I first kissed you, all laws of physics came crashing down around us. Even the birds that were busily preparing their nests stopped in their tracks and gawked at the bewildering sight of the two of us joined by the lips. And like the Red Sea they parted while a crowd of silence marched between us, leaving us with nothing to do but fiddle with our thumbs, our eyes darting from one wall to the next. Needless to say, we shared an awkward first kiss. We were two opposites that seemingly despised the other, yet could not go a week without any form of interaction. Even our eyes meeting would be enough. But that was as far as we could go. Just one, awkward first kiss that sprung up in the heat of a moment that we would both like to forget. But when I first started to think about you before I fell asleep, my fears were confirmed.
I wish to keep these walls intact,