Fire and ice

My heart was racing at the sound of the doorbell. There were butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I knew he felt the same on the other side of the door. I looked at myself in the mirror before letting him in. I thought he would grab my waist, pull me close and kiss me hard as soon as he entered but instead, he just stared at me with absolute awe.
I stood there baffled as my kissing fantasy had gone astray. So instead I decided to drink. And talk. Drink till reality faded away. And talk till we ran out of conversation topics. I stole a few lustful glances here and there and he did the same. We both caught each other in those glances and we both didn’t want to stop. I had to get away before I pounced on him like a wild beast devouring its prey.

The kitchen became a refuge, a distraction, an excuse to refill the drinks and a place to calm our nerves. I didn’t think he’d follow me there. He just stood there with awe in his eyes again as if he could see through my dress and my skin into my soul. His piercing gaze drove me crazy. His big brown Bambi eyes were fixated on me. I looked at him, with obsession in my eyes. I moved toward him to steal a kiss. And he read my mind. Our bodies moved in perfect rhythm with his arms wrapped around mine as our lips embraced. Our hearts beating in unison gave a rhythm to our song and dance. Something we’ve both been pretending for a long time.

Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace!
And, lips, oh you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death!

And these words of Shakespeare echoed in my mind. Our lives were no Romeo and Juliet retelling. We were happy, once. We were together, once. We were we, once. We were fire and ice. A lethal combination of desire and hatred. And whenever we were together, catastrophe would follow. Sure it would be steamy. Passion bought us close every time and every time bitterness tore us apart. We were always poles apart. Either the fire melted the ice or the ice put out the fire. And we were both agonized. Fire and ice don’t belong together. Every time we can’t make it work, it kills a little part of me and it kills a little part of you. Every time you are on the other side of the door, I would feel butterflies. And you would feel that too. But fire and ice don’t belong together. So we have to let it go.