Would It Help

"So it wouldn't help if I kissed you?"

Everything about me screamed no.  Every portion of me knew the answer to be no.  I knew I shouldn't.  I understood that it would hurt and it was wrong and it would be a mistake.  I thought I'd never forgive myself if I did.  More than anything else, I knew that "no" was the one word I wanted to say least of all, least of anything else.  It was the one word I didn't want to leave my mouth.

So I didn't let it.  I gave in and said "yes."  I knew it was a bad idea, and it would leave me hurt, and be something I looked back on with misery and pain.  But I said it regardless.  I said it because more than anything else, I wanted you to kiss me.  Because after you asked, I knew that there was no other answer I could possibly give.  I had to say yes.

I resigned myself, whatever semblance of self-respect and self-control I had because I needed to feel your lips on mine.  In the moment, I could think of nothing else.  And even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have.   In that moment, you were everything to me.  No matter how many times I told myself that it was the worst thing I could do, I couldn't stop myself from doing it anyway.

So I did.