I dared you to hug the penguin statue, and you dared me to sit on the elephant.
We discovered a secret passage under the desks at the library and crawled through the tunnel like explorers. It didn't really lead anywhere, but we couldn't stop laughing.
Maybe you think I have childish tendencies, and maybe I think you're naive, but that's all right because the conversation never ceases to flow.
Tuesday
Sunday
First date?
I wasn't sure exactly what it was, if it was just a casual hang out between friends or something more. Dinner and playing tunes on his guitar - I might have wished it was more, but in any case I missed the last train home.
Yes, I was definitely not expecting that at all.
Yes, I was definitely not expecting that at all.
Saturday
Last Year
Last year on this night, you called out my name in a dark club.
I turned around and you were wearing those ridiculous 3D glasses, a lavender dress shirt, and a black vest. I didn't recognize you at first, and it was such a coincidence that we had run into each other in this particular club, during this particular weekend, in this particular city. We danced for a bit to LMFAO's "Shots", and then went downstairs to catch up.
I don't know why, but I sent you a text telling you that it was great running into you, and I knew you never respond to texts because you don't have a texting plan, but you responded to this one, and we met up 3 hours later.
Last year on this night, we walked through the streets of a strange city at 4 AM, and returned to my hotel lobby. Between the laughter and familiar jokes, you reached for my hand and enclosed your fingers around mine. I've let go of other hands before, but I held on tight to yours. We sat in the hallway all night talking about familiar memories and places, just in a different light.
Last year on this night, between the laughter and the jokes, I wished so hard that you would kiss me. So you told me you had an urge to kiss me, and then you did.
Last year on this night, you asked me what was going to happen after, and for a split second, I almost wished that you wanted to be with me. Morning came and you didn't want to leave, but you had to go to catch your flight home.
This year on this night, I thought about you and all of the laughter and moments from that night. After our last conversation in the same time zone, I have stayed away from the positive thoughts surrounding our moments together as to forget they, or you, existed at all.
But this particular night makes me soften a little.
This year on this night, I have entertained the thought of writing a heartfelt, caring letter to you, as I know you've been through some ups and downs lately. I entertain the thought of being the first to reach out after this long winter, this long silence. I have thought about being the first to cross no-man's land and extend this proposition of a treaty.
But I don't. Because this year on this night, I remind myself that you broke my heart.
I turned around and you were wearing those ridiculous 3D glasses, a lavender dress shirt, and a black vest. I didn't recognize you at first, and it was such a coincidence that we had run into each other in this particular club, during this particular weekend, in this particular city. We danced for a bit to LMFAO's "Shots", and then went downstairs to catch up.
I don't know why, but I sent you a text telling you that it was great running into you, and I knew you never respond to texts because you don't have a texting plan, but you responded to this one, and we met up 3 hours later.
Last year on this night, we walked through the streets of a strange city at 4 AM, and returned to my hotel lobby. Between the laughter and familiar jokes, you reached for my hand and enclosed your fingers around mine. I've let go of other hands before, but I held on tight to yours. We sat in the hallway all night talking about familiar memories and places, just in a different light.
Last year on this night, between the laughter and the jokes, I wished so hard that you would kiss me. So you told me you had an urge to kiss me, and then you did.
Last year on this night, you asked me what was going to happen after, and for a split second, I almost wished that you wanted to be with me. Morning came and you didn't want to leave, but you had to go to catch your flight home.
This year on this night, I thought about you and all of the laughter and moments from that night. After our last conversation in the same time zone, I have stayed away from the positive thoughts surrounding our moments together as to forget they, or you, existed at all.
But this particular night makes me soften a little.
This year on this night, I have entertained the thought of writing a heartfelt, caring letter to you, as I know you've been through some ups and downs lately. I entertain the thought of being the first to reach out after this long winter, this long silence. I have thought about being the first to cross no-man's land and extend this proposition of a treaty.
But I don't. Because this year on this night, I remind myself that you broke my heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)