A glance at the crowd

I glance behind the crowd and see a familiar smile. I recognize you—your smooth cheeks, those funny dimples, that laugh I know too well. It’s you. It’s always been you. It always was you.

But I’m scared. Scared to walk up. Scared you’ll recognize me—or worse, that you won’t. So I stay back, cowering in comfort, admiring you from a distance. Because what if this is my one chance? My one shot to say, “Hola… again.” To say, “Holy shit—it’s you. You’re here. What are you doing here?”

You’d ask the same. But what if it’s not excitement in your voice? What if it’s just shock? Confusion? Or worse—indifference? I can’t take that risk. I’d crumble right there. More anxious than I’ve ever been. Because we used to know each other… and now we’re strangers again.

My mind’s a mess. My heart feels like it might break—out of love? Out of shock? Maybe both. But I haveto know. I need to hear your voice, even just once. To feel those memories come back to life. To admire your beauty, feel your presence.

I want to know what that time meant—what we meant. Because whatever it was… I still feel it. There’s something about you—so lively, so contagious. Maybe that’s why I miss you. Because just seeing you brings me back to life.