We went to the movies on our first date. Not because we wanted to watch a movie, but because you wanted to kiss me.
I sat there, beside you, squirming in my seat, watching you, while your eyes remained fixed to the screen and your hand was on my thigh. You’d squeeze everytime something happened, and I’d cringe, remembering the time you told me I wasn’t skinny enough to be ’hot’.
You tasted of popcorn and cola, like every cliche date ever tasted, and you told me I looked beautiful. What I heard was that I looked better in more makeup, like you told me I would. Your eyes were closed, and I couldn’t stop staring at the mess of person you were.
Your hands roamed my body like it belonged to you, and my voice was silenced by your tongue. I knew then, that you didn’t love me. I knew you never would. But I’d stopped believing in love by then, so I told myself I’d buy caramel popcorn on our next date, and I closed my eyes and pretended to love you.