The icebreaker

I want to relive the initial awkwardness. 

I want to sit in my seat and squirm, again. 

I want to create a hundred imaginary scenarios in my head- all of which, btw, involved you absolutely detesting me- again. 

I want to live and die and curse my lack of spontaneity and social skills in those 120 seconds, again. 

Because when you finally spoke to me, it was like being crushed under a steamroller of flowers. 

Like my mother making my favourite dish under the guise of parsnips. 

Like laying in the grave but being thrown a birthday party instead. 

You broke the layer of ice coating my being; I felt the sun’s embrace for the first time ever. 

Thank you. 

Now do it again. And again.  

And again and again and again and again.