There was a time when you'd tell me certain things that are close to your heart.
One of which I still remember clearly.
It was at noon, a time when we'd usually have our mundane conversations.
Exhausted from the day's events, but not exhausted enough to sleep.
Like usual, you ask me something along the lines of, "How is your day?" while shifting your body to face me directly.
Holding eye contact while waiting for me to respond.
And as usual, whether it be little or not, I'd tell you how it was in detail.
You'd listen. Attentively.
While looking at me.
After my never-ending rants and excitement, I'd ask you the same question, something along the lines of "How about you?" or "How are you?".
You'd tell me in two ways depending on the occasion.
Concise and Calmly.
Detailed and Animated.
And I'd always listen.
Always engage in.
Always enthusiastic about you.
Then that would be the beginning of our conversation.
Ranging from weird to heartfelt until you let me see a glimpse of your heart.
Being curious about you was a bad habit of mine.
To the point I asked you about her.
The one you once loved.
Only to find out that deep down,
you both would still be together
because you haven't let go of her.
Silence fell upon us.
We both ponder.
You about her.
Me about my heart breaking.
Slowly Cracking.
-Hopeless Romantic Weary Writer of Hearts to the clueless boy who still loves her
YOU ARE READING
it's one-sided, so I'll hide it.
PoesiaThings I'll never tell you, but share to the world in anonymity.
