if he moves

those moments, you know it.
feelings never lie, instincts never bluff.
in fact, after this whole episode, the one thing I probably should have drilled in me is to trust my instincts. and everyone should. it can be the tiniest of seedlings planted, the briefest of moments encountered but you know what you know, when you know. and no one should convince you otherwise.

so I met A, quite fortuitously (love that word), or maybe not. but either way, much of it was unplanned, on the fly. and perhaps knowing love, or maybe feeling a semblance of it boils down to being reduced and feeling small. acting big, but feeling meagre. i act big, talk big, slam and criticise but that's really all for the defensive. reduction is what happens inside, when you kind of lose count of your heart for a second, and things feel like they can spiral in any given direction, and if he does something or says something, you're gone. wiped out, extinct and alive all at once. never more extinct and never more alive. you recede into a warm puddle, into oblivion, and your world kind of trembles, but a sweet trembling. A had that effect. we were both unserious, maybe testing waters, i don't  know. but it felt somewhat real, and rooted in the moment. peering eyes, intentional movements, deliberate kisses, consciousness seeping into unconsciousness, light streaming, hearts beating. i don't know. and i don't want to move, or edge, or reveal. because i probably have, and embarrassed enough of myself. if he moves, i move. i don't know.