almst
it’s been three years since we last saw each other that and it’s almost funny how little has changed. even though so much has. we’re older, supposedly wiser. maybe a bit more in touch with our feelings (i hope). reaching out took some courage on my part. i have no idea how it felt for you but it seemed to go as well as it could have.
i never know what to expect with you. something’s different now. but there’s still a hauling feeling, a ghost of something, that trails its familiar finger down my spine when you sit too close. it isn’t the same anymore, thankfully, but i think a piece of who we were will always remain. whether we do or don’t, there’s always something in the way you hold my gaze, just a second too long.
are you lonesome? there is a probability i read too much into little things. i don't know. maybe i'm projecting. i've received this feedback before. i strive to stay open and welcoming toward any constructive criticism regarding my conduct and character. it is part of my recovery process, i've been told. but you stayed last night. after everyone left.
we talked. we laughed. we sat in the soothing quiet.
and when you had to leave, i pulled you in, just a hug. and when we let go, your hand brushed mine before resting it in there. just a second—long enough. we both smiled, and i told you i’d see you soon. i wish i could’ve read your mind that night. this morning i thanked you again, telling you how much it meant that you invited me back into your life. three dots, then your reply, “i could sit and talk with you forever.”
years ago, i didn’t know what we were doing. funny how little has changed.