One moment I knew a face and a name,
on the screen, I had to watch it all begin.
We started talking about random things, like
how I listened and liked the song that you picked.
I wondered what could be the reason you find sad songs great,
could there be some loneliness we shared? Oh,
how great of a leap that was to make.
Pleasantries exchanged throughout the days.
You were still a stranger so I didn’t really care
a lot. But I did. I found reading your messages settling in.
I dared. I found myself smiling at the words you say.
It was okay, but the idea that it could be more than okay
ran ahead of me. Overpowering me, attaching me to something
that was just something for the meanings I chose to believe in.
Trust me when I say that there is nothing more dangerous,
more destructive than falling in love with an idea
combined with sadness, blind optimism, and a sentimental heart;
it is like crashing a plane in a fairly weathered day.
I overthink-ed, started forming expectations out of wits,
Judged myself before I even give us the chance to know the other
naturally, slowly. Why do I feel so sorry?
I am. And maybe, it has nothing to do with you, the one on the other
side. I am not whole, I screwed because I thought that I would.
I am sorry for myself, but I won’t be too hard on me anymore.
I shouldn’t romanticize, but that’s who I am-
I’d like to think you’re not just a face and a name,
that you and I are full of possibilities. But I know, we know,
it all boils down to what and who you choose at the end of the day.
Photo adapted from Pinterest, by vonmedeza.