dallas The state of not having much air between you and some other physical object. 990110
miniver We came so close, I think. What games we might have played on the kind, and the credulous...but I found my lost perspective, and I laughed at me, and I remembered about life, the irrelevance. "Compatable neurons", after all, can't mean much more than uncompatable ones.

I just want to live where it rains alot, now.
miniver Incompatible.

So -close- to being right.

And, yet, w r o n g.
BOOM! you're the closest person to my heart...
and yet sometimes i feel like you're a
million miles away...
kt If I close my eyes it will be gone and the worlds separate and I am sorry for everything because it is so close, but along way for me to reach across. 000405
User24 by your definition, dallas, earth and jupiter are close. seeing that there's no air in space. 010705
TaterHead ...shivering and cold...
Sondra i just want to hold somebody close to me without getting hurt 011007
never thought tonight youd ever be make the shapes
seem much to close
close my eyes
hold my breath and wait
until i shake
distorted tendencies close and exit_the_world 011007
josie close_your_eyes 020920
~gez~ being close to you
holding you in my arms
theres nowhere i would rather be
than with you
i love you
girl_jane Don't get too close...I bite. 030619
nick let go
I can float here
near you
however far you drift
we are ruled by the same currents
swept along in the vast ocean of life
never fear losing me.

you paint yourself grey
your lonliness aches in me
your emptiness begs me
it takes all my strength to hurt you this way
you have my love

You'll be green again.
Lisa and if you did, would you know how it feels
and if you can't, say what you meant
and the day that paints scatter
from lying too long in the sun
pick up those broken pieces
and start to walk again
face up to me, and I won't let you let go..
her royal highness the quirk im getting too close to you
must back off a little bit
paper heart When I let you closer, I only want you closer. 040514
Syrope you're the only person who can get close to me

and you're the only person i want close to me

you're the only thing that matters
tr close your heart please, I want to be alone. 050201
(_) my legs
with all the scars
unable to stay
loose and close
together so i can just
get the clothing on

my eyes but still
feel wetness soaked
disgusting sheets

mouth throat
still hurts and
nobody woke up

the door don'r
let them see
the curtain on
this black night please
Aluria Closeness. Intimacy. Nearness to ones soul. "You are close to me" she says, and I know she means it. I know what she means. Yes, She is residing in my arms, but there is something more. So much more. Intimacy. A moment. 080127
karyn they're arguing, but they're still close together. I miss the intimacy. Easy and familiar. Actually, I wonder if they're breaking up. She's almost in tears and he seems both to be comforting her, but his body language is distant.

It's like watching a heart break apart, piece by piece falling away into the wind.

Though it might be something else entirely. How am I to know? It's been years. Years. Thought I'd found someone and then... nothing.
FA113N We were so close today. Closer than skin. Lying in bed together in a way that felt so natural I had to frown to keep from grinning all the time.

She lay on my bed, our legs touching, and offered me her shoulder blades for inspection. I fumbled with buttons, losing all dexterity. I ran my fingers over her skin, clinically, restraining myself. I would not caress them the way I wanted to, I would not allow myself to touch her gently, softly, to feel her skin. I concentrated on the muscles, the curve of each scapula. My fingers trembled.

She showed me the "imperfections" on her legs, and I wanted to run my hands over them. I saw her bare thighs, the way her dress rode up them, and I did not trust myself to speak. My eyes took in details which until now I have only imagined, and the reality surpassed all imaginings.

We were so close, as she read my words and I watched her feet dance, then go still. I hate feet, am repulsed by them, and yet hers seem perfectly formed, long and narrow and soft. I gave the first foot rub I have given in almost twenty years, and enjoyed it.

She lay on my bed, on my pillow, her hair splayed out, and I did not kiss her shoulder blades, I did not stroke her back. I covered her with a duvet and turned out the light, willing her to sleep, to get some much needed rest. I stroked her hair away from her face and she flinched. For a moment I could have cried, but then she settled, and trusted me enough to relax. My heart soured with pride.

Later, she spread her arm over me, resting it on my stomach, and it felt so comfortable, so right that I felt forced to break the silence, to move, because it was so beautiful it was almost painful. She admitted that my shoulder was comparatively more comfortable to rest her head on, and I laughed in the way only her stubbornness can make me laugh.

When she had to go, we got dressed like guilty lovers, leaving crumpled sheets behind us, and, yes, I felt guilty, even though no lines had been crossed. Then later she returned, and we sat with tea, and I touched for her neck, her hand. She did not react. Impassive, almost disinterested. I resigned myself to the idea that the spark, the chemistry had gone, that she no longer felt it, that she was desensitised to my touch. Then I felt my hand reaching for her collarbone, and I let my fingers caress it the way they had wanted to caress her shoulder blades. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, and we both pulled away. I knew then that I had been wrong.

I was so close, at points. So close to kissing her. So close to taking her in my arms. There were moments when I knew, without a doubt, that should would have kissed me back. Moments where I could feel that a part of her wanted me to. Yet I did not kiss her.

There are so many reasons, it seems strange to list them, but I shall mention some;

There is our past: She has a boyfriend, and once, I cheated on her, which means that she would never cheat on someone. I once turned her into the sort of girl she did not want to be, and I will never, ever do that again. I do not know if the part of her that wants to kiss me is the teenager I almost destroyed, or risk taker who I burned, or even the romantic I disillusioned. I just know that I will never, ever hurt that part, or cause her internal conflict.

There is our present: I gave her the reins, and taking them away would break our rules. She is with the man she will marry; he took the broken pieces I left and pieced them back together. He is the love of her life, and I love him for that.

So I came close, but I did not kiss her.

What on earth could I offer her? No one night stand would be worth losing our friendship, and besides we could never keep it to one. A relationship is out of the question. She would lose her home, her family, her friends, her stable, happy lifeand for what? An emotionally damaged cripple who will spend most of the next four years far too distracted by academia to sustain a relationship.

No. A kiss would lead to so much, it would contain so much, and it would not come to any good. The happy ending has already been written. So why do I stay? Because I know what she would do if she were free, or if we had no history. I know, or believe I know, how she feels. Being close… being with her, it is more than enough. It is more than I could ever dream of. I will be her faithful friend, for as long as she will let me.

And yes, sometimes I will get close, but I will never cross the line.
Mr. Smith too close to close 140821
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