thekissingvirgin: To see him kidnapped by a thought, looking out into space, fixating on a crack in a window or a spiderweb in a corner of ceiling plaster, or the void that sinks the vision to the ragged rug. His concentration passionate like a bystander witnessing dawn. Was I just black and white to him? A step on the staircase? I wish we had never kissed, I would rather be his friend than suffer this end.