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Sometimes

Hot 3Viewed 152 times2018-4-30 15:19 |Personal category:Prose

Sometimes, I imagine seeing you, running into you in the street, saying sorry before realising it is you, how I would awkwardly say hi, probably blush and all that. You would be surprised, say my name the way you used to, make my heart pick up it’s pace. We would talk, you would pretend all is fine and that you are doing just great, talk about some big plans, as if I don’t see right through you, as if I wouldn’t notice the runny nose and gum chewing, the blank eyes and your restless hands. I miss those hands. I would know and you would too, I would try not to ask about it but you would see it on my face, making lame jokes as if to assure me you’re fine, even though you are not, even though we both know you haven’t been for a while. I would pretend with you, too scared to do otherwise, I would just wanna stay there a bit longer, hear you say my name just one more time. You would ask me how I’m doing, I would tell you about my travels. You would laugh and say something like ”cool” before a mutual silence, because you are still the same, I still know you way more than you would ever admit and I know that nothing has changed, and you would know that I have, that something has shifted, this would scare you.

You would look at your phone and tell me you have to go, I would want a hug, the hug I didn’t get, the one I really needed that time, you would probably not give it this time either. I would say goodbye and you would say ”see you”, cause’ you’ve never been good at goodbyes and even though it’s over, that it’s been over for a while now, you will probably always pretend it’s not when we see each other, running into one another in the streets, I would let you, I will probably always look for you at the places we used to be. But the most important thing is that I would go, and even though I’d might turn around, only to see if you would do the same, I would keep walking. I wanted us to make it through, but then I realised that, when it came to us, there were no such thing as through, and in some ways it broke me. Sometimes I, still, can’t breathe when I think of you.



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