Regret but trying to forget

I keep remembering our magical night. How it started… How it felt to be wanted.

Remember leaning in to kiss me? I do. Your soft, juicy lips, wet tongue and deliciousness. 

Remember grabbing my thighs? I do. On our ride listening to Suicide Silence.

I remember reaching over and feeling you hard. Laughing and excited to find a hotel. Laughing at how you couldn’t park.

Two beers, four shots and I became yours real quick. I had a magical night.

I had sex with my “best friend”.

Was it my intention that night? No. It suddenly just happened. I didn’t shave nor groom at all. 

We did everything the world can imagine in that small room, we walked out two hours after but pretty content. 

We left home. We talked, we texted, we were still friends.

I got drunk and wanted you and you wanted to keep all “this” a secret. And that’s where I lost you.

Now I no longer have a friend. I no longer have someone to reply to my texts, or call when I’m upset, or share secrets. I miss you not the sex.
If I could travel time I would change that in an instant. 

Goodbye my almost lover.