No Name

I feel like its been a while since I last saw him. I don't really know where he is, maybe he's gone. But knowing him, or not knowing him, I have a feeling that he's not.

He doesn't really have a name, but neither do I.

His presence is different from mine, is it weird that I noticed that? Is it stalker-ish? Does that make me stalker-ish?

I don't think that I'm a stalker. I don't feel that connection to people, or to a certain person. I feel feel feel yonderly.

The tragic obsession doesn't belong to me. It's not mine. Never will be.

But I do feel like a hypocrite.

Despite my disconnected heart, it dances when my eyes catch his.

Although my heart beats pirouettes it could never change him. He's going to move, but still stay static.

And I'll still be here.

I've never wanted anything, but, sometimes, I feel like waiting for the future that will never be.

Those thoughts plague my mind, they make me hover with what could be but isn't. Not many people would like the feeling, and I wasn't any different.

Our fates weren't intertwined in the lining of the stars. They weren't written next to one another and they didn't move together.

My life is mine and his is his. We don't live a Shakespearean tragedy. Our lives are separate and will always be separate.

As I look at his unhappy smile and he slivers a peek at my glassy bright eyes, I know that we couldn't spend forever staring at each other. The glares would eventually come to an end. I wasn't ok with that, was I?

Looking through tinted windows, I knew it couldn't last.

Most people would spend forever picking at a future that they believe should be theirs, and end up right back at where they started. I don't want that. A person shouldn't want to go through that, and yet they do- why?