You

I’d gladly speak if I knew what to say. 

If I knew what to say, I would speak for hours. 

I wouldn’t have to think.

I could just talk. 

You’d listen. 

I can’t stop thinking about that moment. It felt like the world was just us. We were there, and they were elsewhere. What if I had been bolder? What if I had stepped up, spoke my mind? We could have got somewhere. Somewhere real.

But we’re here.

I think about you every day. Every hour even. Time drags.

All my friends know your name. They know your face, even though they’ve never seen it. They know what it looks like when the sun hits your eyes. How you look when you smile. How you and I clicked.

I never wanted to click out of place. I never wanted to know what it would be like to not sit with you again.

I don’t think you know. 

I don’t know if you’ll ever know. If you’ll know that you have another name for when there are people around. If you’ll know that someone else having your name makes my friends turn to me and giggle until I blush. 

I don’t know if you think of me as often as I think of you. If your friends laugh when they see you smile at your phone. If you tell them about how bad I was at what you love, about how you stuck with me to teach me. If you’ve even brought me up again.

I don’t understand why I feel this way. We met briefly, too long ago. It’s been too long. I don’t know if you still care, I don’t know if you ever did.

But we clicked. Like two magnets. People don’t just click that easily. I don’t know anyone who just clicks. It takes time. People take time. It was like I already knew you, flaws and all. Like I already had a connection with you, and this was just us clicking back into place. 

Maybe I’d chosen you before I knew you. Maybe this has nothing to do with you, and I made this gap in myself for someone to fill, and you were just unlucky enough to be present enough to fill it. 

But I know you. I do. 

And I’d always choose you again.