I know what I’m doing, he said before kiss me. I shouldn’t let that happen, but I did. That’s exactly what I say myself every time I’m heading to something with great potential to cause heart damage. You should always try to stop your friends from doing something that can hurt them, and he’s my friend since so long. He knows every wound on this mess that beats in my chest. If nothing else, he surely knows my feelings about him, and it’s not love. Not in the way romantic couples rub in the face of lonely souls in the street. Even though, I let him kiss me. He held me in the kindest way I’d ever being held, a china doll in his sweet hands. So vulnerable. So badly wanted. It felt like a dream coming true. A cracked one. The right scene filled by wrong players.