Catch Volume 1 here.
You were exactly what I asked for. A carbon copy straight out of my mind. I should have been more careful. You had that thick tongue I was warned about, using it to keep me entranced in that accent I lusted after. There was a special way we played cat and mouse. I let you think you had all the moves, slowly circling me before you pounced. In reality I curated most of our chance encounters, worked behind the scenes to make it look like happenstance.
When we made it official, I felt lucky. Finally I have some I could be picture perfect with. My poor phone drained almost daily during the cupcake days. We'd call just to hear each other's voices. Whenever you looked at me, I could feel tendrils searching for my heart. They'd get so close I could have sworn you actually loved me back. One day I knew your emotions by the difference in sighs. The next day you were a stranger. The day after your cousin handed me your lies with a side of shameless flirtation.
Brooklyn never let go of you. Neither did your secrets. Are they the reasons why it was easy to let me go without ever saying so? Come to think of it, you had a real problem saying anything at all. That tongue covered up the fact that you had a knack for sounding deep without saying anything of real value. You slid away from most descriptive questions I asked. Likened yourself to an artist sans art.
I should have known you weren't for me to keep. Your movements were as evasive as your speech. No one could understand you. It's hard to take the side of someone you can't even reach. You seemed to give me the disappointments I was due. That's the problem with being with a fantasy: it can't live up to reality.