As you lean closer to me, I see the look in your eyes. The telltale gleam is in them; I know you want this to happen. You bend towards me, slower this time. My mind races, thinking of excuses. It comes up with none, and all I’m left with is panic. Your eyes flutter close as you start to pucker your lips. I put my hand on your chest and shakily push you back. Your eyes snap open as you look at me with an exasperated expression. I’ve seen this look before. Every time you try to kiss me, I back away, pull away. I know; it’s getting tiring. I can’t help it, though. This sense of closeness that you’re trying to push on me isn’t something I’m ready for. I’ve never been in a serious relationship, or whatever this is. I know that this isn’t what you want, this constant denial, but there’s nothing I can do. The instinct that makes me want to turn my head every time you try to kiss me isn’t something I want. The stomach ache that comes with thinking about you kissing me isn’t what I want. Nothing about this relationship is something that I want. Maybe we should break-up because I don’t think that these feelings should be happening in a loving relationship, or just any healthy relationship. I don’t know how to make this work, or make it better. Can someone help me? Can you? Or will you just shrug it off like you do with everything else? I can’t do it anymore. I can’t just get rid of this feeling of shame every time I can’t bring myself to kiss you. You insult me, and it hurts, though I know it’s because you’re frustrated. No! I’m not making up excuses anymore, not for you. You know better; give me time. What’s that? Oh, you can’t? Well, figure it out, or else you will never have the chance to talk to me again, let alone kiss me. I need to work out my problems, and you need to work out yours. I guess this is good-bye for now. No, not just good-bye, I’m breaking up with you, you d*bag. Have a mediocre life.