“I was just thinking, just now, how great it would be to be cuddled. Just once.” She said, smiling bitterly.
I look at her, my heart throbbing. I bite my lip, thinking of what to say, what to do. Wanting the feeling to hold her, and never let go. I watched her eyes dance on the night sky and beams of the cars zooming on the highway. I watched her lightly shiver against the cold breeze of the fall winds. I stuff my hands in my pockets, resisting the urge to hold her from pure emotion. Not just from her’s, but from my personal darkness and depression. The countless nights I cried, wanting somebody, to come hold me, and tell me it’s okay. I wanted to do the same for her. But the fear still hung there, in the cold air of that september night at the station but shivered both at. I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. I loved her. My best friend.
“Yeah,” I replied.
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