Drawn

It doesn't mean that I looked at you I'm attracted to you. I just happen to glance your way and notice the ray of sunlight peeking through the pine needles hit your eye. You squint, and a slit, a dimple appears just below your left eye. You shield the glare with your hand. Your right hand that also carefully tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your left ear. You casually run your fingers through your hair. And there it is again, that stray strand of hair. You briefly returned my gaze. Smiled your lopsided grin and looked away. And I just stood there for a moment then shortly walked away.

Allow

You can love someone without getting married or french kissing. You can love people you don't know, people you do know, and people you kinda know.

The few moments they've shared, the short time that they were together, somehow, he's come to mean so much to her. But of course she'll never admit to that.

And so, she did what she did best. She walked away...

And I let you go. Just like that.

I recently found myself caught in a maelstrom of feelings. Fear, nervousness, depletion and about 20 other emotions that I can't even begin to describe are coursing through me.

I watched as the endless possibilities pass me by. I just stood there, not moving, afraid to even speak.

I watched as a possible love interest come by. And for a moment, I welcomed the thought. But it was just me who thought. It was all me. It could have been a possibility. But how can I be sure of it? Always the skeptic. I doubted him and more so, I doubted myself. Was it real? Dared he spoke of words music to my ears. And I dismissed those words. Nothing is real. Not words, not moments. And so I stood there, not moving, afraid to even speak.

I watched him drift away. I watched as walls were built between us. I stood there not moving.

And I am caught in a maelstrom of emotions. I have let what could possibly be the best thing in my life slip through my fingers. Fear is gone. Confidence took over. Depletion replaced by what I almost gained. Almost. Not quite. Too late now. Newfound glory useless. For the one whom I let get away.