untitled on the plane: 4-17-26

It makes me feel stupid — the way I keep thinking about you. And it’s unfair. It’s pointless. No matter what I’d want, I probably won’t ever see you again. And you don’t think about me. 

But, 

I wish you did. I hope you do. I keep thinking about you. About watching my favorite movie on my bed, wondering Is this a date? Surely not. I would know. But maybe or maybe not. I’m still wondering. 

I wish it was. I wish if it was I would have known, because speaking with you came so easily it was terrifying. It was embarrassing. All my words dragged straight from my mind and falling on the ground in front of you. You didn’t flinch. You weren’t even trying, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I said something and I began to feel embarrassed, something about you quieted that feeling. And we kept talking. And it was easy — it was always so scarily easy with you. 

I can’t believe I’m not going to see you again. I wish I had done more. I wish I had more than just the memory of you seeing me.