Stranger in the Subway

Expectations

I guess at the whole time I was watching you from afar, I grew fond of you, your image, your shape, your movement, your smile.
I didn't know you, but everything I did know about you, I loved. And everything I didn't, I made and recreated in my head.
You were like perfection to me. I didn't expect you to look my way, but I thought that if I'd ever talk to you, you'd be exactly perfect, you'd be exactly who I thought you'd be.

As I walked closer to you, your image changed, you were less blurry, your posture was different, your movement, your shape, and even your smile. It was all wrong, it wasn't what I wanted, what I expected. I was mad at you for a moment, I turned away for a second. But I guess I turned back to look at you, hoping that maybe, just maybe you'd still be different.

And I mean, it was stupid, how could I be mad at someone who was just being themselves?