Mornings are good. Afternoons aren’t too bad either. Early evening, the anticipation starts to bubble, but I keep myself distracted. Nights are hard. The anxiety creeps up, taking hold of every thought and action, knowing what the end result will be.
Every night for a month, we talked for hours at a time. About everything, about nothing at all. Not wanting to sleep because the reality was better than the dream for once.
It takes 30 days to create a habit. Is that what we were?
We never made promises, plans we couldn’t keep. We were locked in the present, not looking at a future. We felt like teenagers again, the spark, the excitement to have found a friend. I thought we were doing it right, that we didn’t jump in head first. We jumped together, not trying to pull the other one down, but hand in hand into the unknown.
But the unknown is a scary place, and someone said it was wrong. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong to have feelings for someone.
So I sit here at night, sitting in the unknown, wondering if I’m the habit you needed to break.