I turn the other way

She returns him the bubble tea, letting the cup slide on the surface of the table, and he grabs it before it can spill everywhere.

"Are you dumb or what?" he says laughing.

He brings the straw to his lips to sip, without lifting the cup, and when he starts to drink he notices I'm looking at him.

"Are you alright?" he asks me with the straw leaning on the bottom lip, without even worrying about lifting the head and sitting down properly. "You're a bit absent-minded."

Now I could tell him, but it could be too much.

Now I could tell him the truth and reveal everything once for all, stopping to play with the indifference.

Right now, in this exact moment, I could break my years of silence, just saying how things are.

That's it: just saying how things are.

Right now, when I feel like I have a big power in me.

I feel the arrogance of what I'd like to say spreading in my body, exploding under the skin, trembling through my vertebrae.

I feel that I want to reply and break every routine.

I don't know why I feel like this, after all this time, right when he looks at me with the straw leaning on his bottom lip, with the disinterested air of who doesn't expect anything different from the usual, the air of who takes for granted that everything will always stay the same.

I can't take with me anymore the thought that everything won't always stay the same.

I want it to be felt, I want it to be known, I want it to be seen.

Now I could destroy thousands of moments in which I pretended nothing happened, just opening my mouth and letting the words come out. I could do it and enjoy the view of their shocked faces.

Now I could start screaming, right now, in this crowd of people that don't expect it at all, causing a violent rupture in their bubble of normality they are in.

All the people sitting around us, in other tables, would immediately turn their faces to look at me. they'd look at me with the hindrance of who's just witnessed a scandal, assuming the posture of who'd never do that here, right now.

All the people sitting around us would finally hear my truth, stopping for one minute their actions that lose every power in front of my cry.

Now I could decide to overturn every conviction, every expectation, every certain fact. I could simply do it by saying how things are. That's all.

Now I could expose every excuse that I invented to mask my love frenzy.

Because I'm sick of this.

I can't just see him, it was never enough.

I can't live just some of my hours with him.

Since we met, for me it wasn't enough to be just seen, I wanted to belong to him.

Now I could give voice to the hurry of breaking the wall of diversions that separate us. I could tell him my ridiculous and radical confession.

Now, right now, I could tell him what I've always wanted to say.

Starting from the fact that when he and she are next to each other, I hate them. That I sneakily look at them even if I don't want to and that I hate them every time I do it.