Text me / Golden

I know you were way too bright for me.

You're so golden
I'm out of my head 
And I know you're scared
Because hearts get broken

Golden - Harry Styles

It's been a while. Or not that much. I can't really tell the difference. But from time to time I still keep thinking about you. I remember things you said. Or your smile. The way you can't hold the gaze, which, to be honest, I find sweet and kind of annoying at the same time. And it keeps me thinking if you are going to ever text me again. Or that was all the time we were allowed to have together. And I really wouldn't mind if our story was written as a dream or a 2-days-lasting summer story, but you are so beautiful it drives me insane. 

For a while, I kept anticipating. Aching for my phone to sound, to get a notification from you. I even turned the sound on. And I felt like I was 15 again, and I'm no longer the person who can endure this kind of love. I wouldn't mind a little unease, a little adventure, but, you know, my heart is tired and somehow fixed, but I'm not sure about how many breaks can resist anymore.

But I keep thinking about you, anyway. I can't help it. I remember that one night when it was like 4 in the morning and I was dreaming you texted me, so I opened my eye and took my phone and there it was a message where you said you've just watched this film I talked to you about and I was like omg this girl is so cool, none of my friends has ever actually watched anything I've recommended them (and neither did I). And I don't know, girl. That other night, when we went to this super fancy bar where the light was all red, I wanted you to give me a sign. I would've stopped talking long before to spend all the hours kissing you. But I wouldn't let myself thinking you could fancy me. How could I? You are so golden. So bright and so fucking deep closed. 

And that other night, with your arm right beside mine, I could feel the energy crossing between our bodies, but I wasn't sure. Because you were so golden. I could see from the corner of my eye your face illuminated by that stupid film that you were so fucking golden.

You always look right, you always smell so sweet, you always look so elegant, like you're in charge. You are exactly the kind of girl I would look to and wonder if I’m about to fall in love with or just too fondly desperate to resemble the slightly. I don't know, girl, you are so golden.

And then I go out to try to forget about you texting me and more than a couple of times I thought someone was smelling like you. That exact amount of sweetness in the air, and even though the nuances weren't exactly the same as yours, I found myself scanning the room to make sure you hadn't magically shown up. But it is never you, of course. 

But look at you. What did you say about my jawline? I guess that was just a line. But I don't know, have you seen your face? Look at me, I'm just a mess, a tangle of insecurities and fears and unspoken thoughts. And, honestly, I totally understand you haven't texted back. Even if I still hope any moment you will. 

That day, back in the sunlight, I couldn't keep my eyes out of you. You kept asking me why. Girl, again, have you seen your damn face? God, you're so golden. So naturally beautiful, like if you didn't need to put any kind of effort to look so fucking good. It was like looking directly at the sun. But, maybe that was the problem? You're too bright maybe. Or maybe am I?

I don't know, girl. You are so golden. But so am I. So, you know, if you ever figure your things out… just text me. It may be too late for us already, but I’d be willing to give it a try. That much light in just one kiss would be totally worth the try.