I hope I don't fuck it up.

We spent the weekend making out like we were teenagers again. Maybe it was in the spirit of celebrating the nuptials of our mutual high school friends in the suburb we all grew up in.

It came out of nowhere despite having had to come from somewhere. There was a moment, possibly fueled by the heat of the hot tub and that feeling that happens somewhere between buzzed and highly intoxicated. I looked at him as he pushed some errant strands of hair behind my ears in the way that always seem to make me uncomfortable, a little breathless even. I thought to myself, I might love him. It felt like one of those moments so aptly described in epic novels, where everything stands completely still and there seems to be nothing or anyone else that matters. It was the sort of thing I've never felt before, the kind of thing I thought I was incapable of experiencing.

Later, I easily fell asleep in his arms and didn't bother to carefully migrate towards the edge of the bed like I usually would.

In the morning, when I kissed him goodbye he said "you probably shouldn't live in Milwaukee anymore". And, coming from someone who I've known since I was fourteen and happens to be a lot like me when it comes to expressing feelings, that comment implies a whole lot...at least, I hope so.