Instead of a heartbreak

He leaned into my personal space that day, with all his charm and subtle smile. He felt the electricity too, passing briefly through our veins. It was accidental. He wasn't sure what to do. So he stayed there for a second or two. His hair is a mess from playing basketball with his friends, dripping acid on my soul. It beats any kind of cologne. Despite the little time that he had everyday, he still made time to catch a moment with me. He talks to me. Laughs with me. And makes me feel great. He was all the toxic sweetness it takes for me to fall in love again. All the future imaginings with him plays in front of me like hallucinations. Spring time. That pure and naive kind of love. That is what he would give me. It did not at that time occur to me how he would break my precious heart. I was blind and I wanted to be. He was the one drug that could give me beautiful dreams. And never would I have thought that these dreams contain nightmares that would haunt me long after he's gone.

Oh, no. Not again. So instead of drinking him in that day, I stood up and left the room, telling myself, that I'd saved my heart today.