It's hard sometimes,
deciphering between what's real and what's fake.
I dreamt of your smile last night.
Not the kind of smile you give to me
when we pass each other in the corridor,
but the smile that I've seen you make when you're truly happy.
It's a rare smile.
One I've come to look out for.
Because how can I be happy, if you,
are not.
And though I barely know you -
because we were only ever almost friends
and you've changed a lot since then -
I feel like I see things others don't.
I see how you space out when the world becomes too much.
I see how you follow more than you lead.
I see how the people around you are everything.
Even if they don't see you back.
I've thought about what I would say to you.
Over and over again.
If I ever got the chance.
If I ever took that chance.
And I've realised that there is a blur
between what I see and what I imagine.
