We cross the street towards the perpetual glimmer of the sea. I watch you squint beneath your glasses, your smile mapping a broad curve on your face. My eyes focus on you, everything becoming a distant white blur. I watch you adjust your glasses and rub your eyes. And your cheeks. And your eyebrows. I feel nothing but endearment and an urge to rest on your lap. And maybe stay there until I wake.
I watch you sleep. I smile discreetly. I feel sad and happy at the same time. I never liked someone as much as this. I take my notebook and list down my favorite words. I think you might like them too. I take off my shirt -- technically your shirt -- and changed. As I walk towards the door, I imagine you waking up to a crater beside you. You'd smile, and for the first time, you'd miss me.
I keep playing this scene in my head for the longest time. I've been secretly in love with you for months, way, way back. Today, I chose to write this down, among many others, and label it as "fiction." This just has to stop. It's getting creepy, I guess.
I don't think you're having any trouble writing stories. This little scene gave me goosebumps. I'd love to see what other tricks you've got up your sleeve.
ReplyDelete:)