Here in the dark corner, I grope for the reality of you and my affections. Because let’s be honest, I never really knew you. Or maybe I did, just silently. A muted lover. I knew you from glances, from passed-on details about you, from the music that your guitar produced whenever those slender fingers of yours touch the strings. Or maybe, just not yet.
Who are you now? Who are you then? Just in case you haven’t grasped it yet, you could have been the love of my life. I knew I was crazy about you. Everybody knew that except you. But I am familiarly aware of that feeling because I have felt that for others too. The thrill of you being out of reach, maybe I am poisoned by that. It makes a flat existence adventurous in so many ways. I could tell you “I love you” but it would fleetingly disappear into thin air. I could be the insane version of myself but I’d still be invisible to you.
The chance departed the night. Day came and nothing changed.
But there may be something. I camouflaged with the rainy day and poured my great hope for chances. There may be a kind of bravery in telling you all of these naked sentiments. But I feel like deep in my bones when I bump into you again, I will, in a second, crawl into my awkward self. But, please, please, please help me. Take my hand, tell me your name, sit across from me. Let’s talk.