Blushing
Dear Kari,
My face is red hot 😳 for minutes now, because I scrolled upon your Capitalism-Chan tweet about going for a run.
I thought, "Oh, cool, she went for a run, too! I wonder if she saw my bloops (posts) on BlueSky about the runs I've been going on."
"She's really exaggerating being out of breath from running. I guess I can see how that's supposed to be sexy, like she's being anime cute about it?"
You in the following tweet:
"this is from my most recent content release where I try desperately to keep eye contact with the camera while I orgasm"
I feel the blushing in my face even flaring through the bridge to the tip of my nose like a hot Atari symbol is on my face.
Have I been blushing for ten minutes?
I hold on to my original impression of you being breathless from running in a quirky way.
I'm not becoming aroused in an inappropriate way, but my breathing deepens and I'm practically sighing every time I breathe.
My breathing shudders a little. Your face is so pretty. You look so nice. I left Twitter minutes ago, but I can still see you in my imagination. The shade of your lipstick looks so good on you.
It's you, my friend—part time friend. The one that notices how I break the rules of using punctuation to create effects for the reader. She's so fucking cool, even though I agreed to help her stop cussing.
I'm still blushing and my chest is heating up, now. Why am I blushing when I'm not thinking of you sexually? I couldn't register the idea of you having an orgasm. I just adored you.
The heat is flaring down my spine into my lower back. My neck muscles have relaxed. I feel a serene euphoria. The air almost tastes sweet on my tongue.
How was I so lucky to ever know you? This is crazy—this never happens to me. At least not with anyone like you, I mean, wow! You're so enriching and so good at everything you do.
But you see me. You understand me. I really do get Her vibes.
I'm still blushing. Why?
—Michael