VIRB

I think this time I will gather the nerve and speak to him.

Praying that my breath doesn't get short, my palms sweaty, my voice cracking, my face red, my body shaking in fear; how could I even imagine I could say a word. How could I even think I had the nerve. What thoughts!

Last time I tried this my palms got sweaty and my voice choked up in such a way that I couldn't utter a word at all. I just walked off in such swiftness that he probably wondered what the hell was wrong with me. He followed; he stood by me as I looked at my other friends talking, as I pretended to be listening ever so intently to the meanderings of this small but focused group. Laying in a small chuckle here and there, I'm sure I fooled him; I hope I did at least.

I cut eyes in his direction occasionally; quickly returning to my the attention of my friends. I hope he didn't see me, I hope he didn't know what I was thinking about.

I want to speak to him; I want to be comfortable; I want to stare into his eyes as he speaks to me about his passions and fears. I bite my bottom lip, these thoughts flooding me. I wish he were bitting my bottom lip. I wish he were laying into me for a small kiss, only a small kiss. I close my eyes and wish so tenderly to have him hold me. "This is silly," I think to myself. "This is truly silly, I am a grown boy!"

I walk into the crowd of friends away from him and try to hide among the friends; I try to drown my image out and blend in. I'm so scared. I'm so scared he knows my thoughts; I'm so scared he knows my passion for him.

Maybe next time. Maybe my body won't betray me again.

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When I get nervous and scared I have scenes in my head. Like movies. I decided to write one down.