Too many blankets.

Feel that alcohol.
That alcohol coursing through her veins.
Coursing through her veins giving her that confidence.
That confidence to feel invincible.

To say anything.

Anything.

I love you, she wants to scream. I love you. I love you. Iloveyou.

But it cannot be so.
Terrified. Petrified.
What if it is not reciprocated.
It cannot be so.

Terrified of that feeling that insane feeling of rejection.
That pulsating hurt that is so raw you can't bear to look at it for a day.
That hurt that makes you feel, really feel for the first time.

Or the second.
Or the third.
Or the twentieth.

It always feels new.
Never the same, and always new.
Something you can't get used to.

Ahh, to find the day it is reciprocated.
To find the day where there is no hurt.

I look forward to it.