Texas

How does that happen? You and me sitting side by side? Just like in the dream. I had a feeling you might sit next to me and not in front of me. There were moments when you were so close and I saw a look in your eyes, which caught me off guard. But, you know, I was only partially caught off guard, because it made sense, to be that close, as if it was just you and I, and we didn't have the lives we have.

And then when you mentioned your friend from Texas, while I was already tipsy from the one alcoholic beverage, it took me right back to that other dream...of you and I sitting side by side at a picnic table in some park I've never been before. 

I remember after I woke up from having that dream, how upset and emotional I was because I knew it was only about me and my thoughts and nothing whatsoever to do with you or reality. Especially when you mentioned having to go to Texas. Out of all the places you could mention, it was Texas. Which of course, made no sense. After all, it was just a dream.

But then, in passing, when you spoke about your friend from...Texas, it kind of took my breath away. I don't really know why. I mean, who cares? But, it was Texas, like in the dream, and it made me feel that somehow you and I are connected. My rational mind says that can't be true. But, since I've got so many layers to me, why couldn't it be true? 

I tried so hard to give you your space, you know? Because I didn't want to be disrespectful. At times, I noticed you did that for me, too. And when you touched my arm, I got goose bumps. It occurred to me that I'd been touchy feely with you...maybe a bit too much. I'm sorry.

You're miles away now, physically and most likely, emotionally. Men and women are wired so differently. You and I? For sure.

So, I'm just waiting for this torture to end. I know it'll happen soon. I'm typically an all or nothing kind of girl when it comes to certain things. It's not enough you might feel something. It's not enough. Yet, at other times, it is. But not today. Not after this year. What a year, it's been. 

That look in your eye won't carry me for much longer. It'll let me go the first chance it gets. You won't be there to pick me up off the floor. You're not poetic enough. You don't get me. It's just one of those things you'll never get to do...or, at the very least, try at.

When you care about someone, you want to see them. You don't want to see me. Well, you do. But, you don't. And you can't. And you won't. Isn't that the truth of it? So, there's no point to any thought of you. 

You're happy. I see that you're happy. You found a place in this world to call your own. I'm happy for you. But, unlike the dream, I won't dare tell you that.