onehundredfourtynine.

I stopped you dead in your tracks as you were grabbing your bags and leaving. you turned your head and laid your big eyes on me, with the beginning of a wry, yet sure smile. Don't go, I whispered, and you gently bit down on your lip, pressing your hand against mine, intertwining our fingers. Quickly you pulled away and the terrifying stinging of tears was ever so menacing. Our hands pressed together like life long lovers, yet in the quickest instance, they were torn asunder by our fates. I bet nobody had ever told you that the way hands may mourn is through timid clapping. As your ride pulled away, there was a round of applause. I showed my sorrow over you in my very own way. Heartbroken hands, accompanied with a tear free face.

You're about as beautiful as a train wreck. But you sure are coming along just fine.