Perfectly Mistaken

I miss having endless conversations where we got to know each other over text messages from the moment we respectively woke up, til the time we both passed out while texting at night, and continuing it the next day with an apology from whomever got up first. I miss seeing you at least once a week, while meeting at our friends house that you would stay at. I miss seeing the way your lips pursed together when you would first be trying to hide your gorgeous smile, only to eventually give in and have it shine through. I miss the way you casually toss your hair behind your shoulders. I miss the way your quick, but awkward laughter as I would make bad jokes in your direction. I miss casually, awkwardly, flirting with you, and your reciprocation. I miss those flirts turning into conversations about us both wanting to take this slow, as there was so much at stake with what we could potentially become. The timing, however, is what got in the way. You’re leaving, for the next two-four years, and possibly forever. You’re going to the other side of the world to tackle your passion head on and make something of yourself in it. You are still trying to grasp what casually dating means, after being in only one relationship for over 8 years of your life until last year. Funny how that passion is something that drove me to be as attracted to you as I still am. Funny how that was the deciding factor into what caused us to not even try. I miss talking about the world’s future, past, and present. I miss seeing those eyes of yours peer deep into mine, causing me to want to share every last detail of my past with you. Wanting to share my aspirations, my current thoughts on the world, and wishing to hear yours in return. I miss sharing a best friend with you. With each of us playing a trivial part in her life when the other wasn’t in it. Filling in the blanks on things, and having us explain the insider jokes that we both spent years creating with her. I recall the night that I knew I was in too deep, but didn’t want to admit it. We had all been drinking, some of us more than others, when we decided to then go to the bar and get food. I decided that a few rum and cokes would be a great idea, as we continued the dance that we were sharing. Unfortunately, neither of us knew it was approaching fast to the end. I recall laying down in the booth, you had excused yourself to the bathroom, and our friend was asking me what was going on. In that very moment, I had come to realize that this was something that I didn’t know if I could just walk away from, as was previously discussed between us. I didn’t know if I could just forget the person you were, and then be okay with not seeing you for years after spending a few months together. I didn’t know if I could just act like we weren’t sharing a connection right there, and for the first time in years, it was a connection that felt real. We adjorned back to our friend’s apartment. She went to bed, and we stayed up on the couch for a little bit longer, just talking. Nothing physical happened. But you grazed my soul with your presence in that conversation. I should have kissed you. I really shouldn’t have, but I am regretting now that I did not. Perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps we would have pursued something. Either way, it still seems as if you’re just a faraway stranger that I’m afraid to speak to. I’m afraid that if I reach out to you, you will be creeped out by me. Because I can’t let go. I can’t let go what I felt that night. I can’t let go that for the first time in years, it felt right to be having that moment with someone. Someone like you. I lay in bed tonight, alone as per usual. With my thoughts drifting to you. With my desire to reach out to you, so we may talk like we used to all those months ago. My knowledge that we will never share a moment like that again is what keeps me up tonight. I am alone, and I would be okay with that, if I had only not come to know you.