When we kiss, I feel like I've been hit by a train. I mean that in the best possible way, if that makes any sense. We never stay, are never constant. But for some reason we always kiss. It's never planned, and never executed gracefully, but it always happens. I don't know if we're meant to be or not, but what I do know is that I want you to stay.
But wanting you to stay constitutes wanting me to stay, and the person I am when I'm with you isn't someone that anyone likes (except for you and I). I know those two opinions are the only two that matter but there's another part of me that I can't shake no matter how hard I try. Tendrils of doubt and hesitation always grip me and I can never shake them off.
But like I said, when we kiss, I feel like I've been hit by a train. I can never quite pick up the pieces until you've left. Returned to your school (because it is your school now. McKinley isn't a place that you call home any longer). You go off to live the life and run away from your problems and that's fine. That's fine because I do it too, just in a different way.
You, after everything, after the storm somehow manage to hold on to everything that's you. Meanwhile, I stayed indoors and didn't feel a thing.
So here I am, picking up the pieces of myself near the train tracks while you silently go back into your cage without a fight.
(The hope is fading from my lips.)