definitely don’t imagine sitting in his dressing room as he’s pacing nervously, bouncing around here and there all worried. and you watch him and ask him if there’s anything he needs you to do, and he just murmurs “will yeh pray with me?” and of course you nod and reach your hand out to him, and he holds your hand ever so tightly, his cross between his lips. And he just closes his eyes and thinks a prayer with your hand in his and once he’s done he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a few pecks against your knuckles, muttering a quick “love you, wish me luck” before flashing you a grin and walking out to go onstage
To the man in the bar with the kind eyes and the charming smile,
It is a wonderful moment when you meet someone unexpectedly, someone that you know you like immediately. Someone to laugh with and talk to with ease within a few moments of knowing them. To disregard the people you came out with because you’re having too much fun getting to know this new person that you’ve met, this man that you weren’t expecting at all.
I have always thought that kissing a stranger is underwhelming and overrated. I have seen it all the time. Heck, I have been one of those people and I have never really enjoyed the moment. But last night, there was a spark and my stomach actually did somersaults. Cliche, I know. I have always thought that to kiss someone you’ve known for years, and anticipated kissing, is the best kind of kiss. But you proved me wrong last night. It is possible to meet someone and within a couple of hours know that you like them, like really, probably foolishly, like them.
I should have known you were too good to be true. Too nice, too handsome, too funny, too easy to get along with. There had to be something. But I ignored it because god knows I am always talking myself out of such perfect moments, convincing myself not to do things with reasons I’ve made up.
I really should have listened to myself though, and you shouldn’t have underestimated a girl’s ability to investigate. Married with kids. That was your fault, and that’s a pretty damn big one.
So, fuck you for being the loveliest man I’ve met in a long time and making me actually like you. Fuck you for not being honest. Fuck you for making me be that girl.
And god, I hate myself because I still like you.
I hope I never see you again.
The girl with the green eyes and the just-washed hair.