One hand can’t clap and two lips aren’t enough for a kiss.

This is not a romance.
This is not a rant.
This is a story of that kind of feeling, you can’t label.

You know those moments when you’re staring at a glass of wine and your heart sinks down with a feeling?

That feeling is what this is all about.

A glass of wine and a magnetic hypnotic smile...

I’m only a roommate…

I know the lines of her face and the many types of smiles she has. I cannot tell you how many, but I know I know them all.

And don’t worry about my expectations...

— What expectations?

Nevermind they won’t even cross your mind.

Remember, these are a bunch of words combined together as an attempt to express a feeling.

I’m just a man.

I do what I can

I’m only a human after all.
(Stop that song now, don't play it in your head)

I play ideas in my head and it’s more than enough for me ...

But we always want more, don’t we?

Greedy little humans.

It keeps my heart warm.

And my mind sane.

Maybe it’s just the wine who knows?

Sometimes you can’t help a feeling.

Is this even a conversation?

After making the bar hopping and working our bodies out ruling the dance floor at the night club — All eyes were on you, queen of the night…
The one and only green-eyed queen of the night…
Here we are walking home in the chill breeze, you’re leaning on me, holding my arm with both your hands like I’m your safety net, your solid rock...

Here we are closing the night with silent eye contacts and a bottle of wine...
I know you love wine.
I know it makes you fall in love with yourself more and more.
There! I can see it in your reddish cheeks already.

Here, in this room.
Next to this fireplace.
With every glass of wine, we’re pulled closer.
Roots of intimacy watered by vintage tasteful wine, growing slowly, reaching the depth of our overlapping souls...

You can’t deny it.

Period.

— What do you mean?

Boys will be boys.
And men will be men my lady.
Imagination is a private matter and tonight I’m choosing to give you the keys.

It’s intimate.

It’s a very natural attraction and you can’t blame anyone for how they feel.

Can you blame a man for fantasizing about beauty?

Admiring the art of God isn’t a sin.

I didn’t cross any borders.

Yet.

That’s the thing with borders, some particular ones you can’t pinpoint, like intentions nobody can open your heart and see them for real.

Even though I believe humans can reach those levels of purity of reading another person. But it requires a certain level of “I don’t know what to call it” — You get the idea.

When a person has a headache, nobody knows but them.
If you don’t announce your headache the world will never know.

An MRI scan tells the doctor you are in pain.

The doctors ask: are you feeling any?

If you respond negatively, you’ll confuse your doctor but mostly they’ll believe you.

Anyways, we’re not here for this kind of philosophical speech.

Let’s turn around, leave that monkey mind, and talk about a feeling.

Intimacy (n): a cozy and private or relaxed atmosphere.

I’m not a pervert but I know small details matter. Let’s take your clothes for example. I know your laundry, your undies, and bras and I know what goes with your eye color, and what pieces are your favorite to wear.

You definitely have a taste in choosing what to put on...

As I watch you walk to your room wet and half-naked after a shower, I permit my imagination to go wild and with a taste of boldness, I can openly say that your blue VS bra is gorgeous on you...

Ah, you thought I’d never think of you that way?

Here’s how I see it:

Well, now we are drinking together.
We eat together.
We workout together.
We buy groceries together.
We take long walks together.
We laugh together.

We go out and go home together.
We live together.. don’t we?

I know when you’re upset.
I know when you’re happy.
I know your moods.
I know when you’ve had a rough day.
I know when you cry in your room silently.

And this, this very glass of wine with its taste and unique composition down to its very particular atoms is my way to say I’m here with you.

I’m here for you…

I know I m just a roommate, maybe nothing more than sharing a flat together. I find that very symbolic, the flat knows all about our private lives, the walls are connected, the air you breath, some of it I breathed, the water you showered with, the water I drank were one thing at some point...
It’s life and that’s how we humans chose to live it.
You chose me for a roommate.
I chose you.

Like it or not we’re more intimate than you ever thought roomie.

We might not look close from an outside point of view.
Details, especially the small ones, are what change the curses of one’s life.

Living under the same roof and sharing that small day to day moments is precious and the roots keep going deeper and deeper with every laugh,
every talk,
every dinner you cook,
and every glass I pour..

This is leading us somewhere, whether it’s right or wrong those feelings are real and you can’t deny the intimacy that is boiling inside...

Yeah, you don’t get what I m saying about.
You don’t need to.
You only need to know it.
To feel it.
To open your eyes to it.
To expand your awareness so it reaches it.

Go ahead.
Close your eyes.

*steals a kiss*

In the end, if this is can be called an end:

This is a glass of wine.

This is a feeling.
Funny thing that I don’t drink alcohol.
Sarcastically, the feeling is real.