Sssh.

You missed your train home.

You can sleep on my couch, I told you.

A nod.

The two of us.

Intoxicated individuals.

Holding hands (were we?) walking through the snow.

Lost gloves. Or was it one?

Were our friends with us?

Where had they gone?

Dispersed, into the night.

Us, together. Yet alone.

My heart had been broken. Yours wanted to help me heal.

I think back.

The nights blend together. There were so many.

So many memories.

I forget exactly where we started, but know where it ends.

On the way to my apartment ...

You made a phone call.

Hushed.

We were friendly, she and I.

I believe she trusted you.

And me.

She trusted me.

We got to my place.

A cab ride.

Stumbling.

Fumbling.

Friends.

Feeling more.

Wanting more.

I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

That's not me.

It's not you, either.

It wasn't us.

You knew.

I knew.

We both knew.

You settled in to sleep on my couch.

We sat.

We talked.

One moment fell into the next.

We kissed.

Briefly.

Quickly.

Stolen.

I said goodnight.

Went to bed.

Alone.

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