He Needs a Name

There is little to say. I met a boy here that reminds me so much of you. I push and pull and smile at him because of that. He has your cheekbones and eyes and build, your voice on the telephone, your social awkwardness and tendency to ramble about inane subjects. He has your worship of me, listing off the things he likes about me while making me a sandwich and telling me I'm amazing every time we speak. I don't want to stick around to see how long it takes for that list to turn into the dull, bitter recitation of "you can't help who you love." I chide myself for pasting on him tracing paper sketched with your image.

Once when I had him pinned to the bed and was covering him with kisses, he made noise and casually threw out the phrase, "You better not go back to California."

I sat straight up in bed, a few small chills chasing each other up and down my spine. I covered my face with both hands.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that."

I climbed off of him and moved to the far side of the bed.

"What?"

I shook my head. "Just...don't even..." How do you explain that one?

He throws out one eerie similarity after another. It's too weird to leave. I stay, entranced, waiting for what comes next.


Side note: It's not all that. He is sweet and sexy and I like him. But still... it scares the hell out of me.