Artificial Intimacy

“You know kid, in life, when a really good thing happened to you, you tend to want more. But sometimes it’s best to leave it as it is.”

He turned off the bedside lamp, and sneaked under the blanket. “Good night” she said, pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Good night, kid,” as he spooned her.

When their legs intertwined, and she could feel his warm and heavy breath on her neck, all seemed in place, but just not quite yet. She’d soon realize that it was merely an illusion, an artificial intimacy; a pseudo-comfort that would vapor into thin air.

In the darkness of the room, she couldn’t help but wonder; who would have thought that the artificial intimacy could feel so natural and effortless.

But the thing about artificial intimacy is, as it might taste tantalizingly delicious for a few seconds, it will leave you with the aftertaste you couldn’t really get rid of. The specific bitterness that lingered; no amount of sweetener could wash it out.

She knew this very well, so she closed her eyes, and tried to sleep it off.

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