You once told me you were most attracted to my eyes and the shape of my lips. I had never thought about a person’s lips before, but ever since then yours are the only ones I ever notice. It’s hard to keep saying this is nothing. It’s hard to convince people we’re just friends when in a crowded room you openly say that’s your favourite feature about me. It’s hard to remember to not let my gaze drop down. I think the minute you think about someone’s lips. About the way they’d feel against yours or the shape they’d leave on a coffee cup- you’re fucked. There’s no going back. You can’t forget that feeling. You can ignore that feature when they talk to you. You can’t pretend they aren’t the last thing you think about at night and the perfect cure to bad days.