It may not seem like a lot, but I think about you. I think about you even when I shouldn’t and I honestly think about you a whole lot. Not in a creepy way, but in the kind of way where I can spend my whole day thinking about you and still not run out of things to think about; in the kind of way which is Consuming. just imagining the little details about your face or all of your moles or just the way that you are constantly laughing with all of your mouth just gaping open and for the world to see, making the whole room laugh around you and if you are going to live, Live in a way that is going to effect everyone around you.. live so that others have a reason to as well and live a whole and true life just for yourself.
And if you ever read this and if you ever find that you are thinking about me too, even in the slightest bit or even in the tiniest little thing that you come across in the street, then please don’t be a coward like me. please don’t just stare and wait for some hurricane to swing us into each other’s arms. Please don’t be me when you can be you and you can come and say that you think my shirt is cool or that hey, have you listened to Bastille’s take on the Scrubs or anything, but if you ever see what I do between the two of us and if I am too late by then, then please by all means, go ahed and do what I couldn’t and do what I have always wanted to.
Here we were, in the same room, under the light of the very same chandelier that we had been for the past 3 and a half months, that seemed to be shedding all of its light away from me and somehow taking all to you, Always to you. And I couldn’t help but wonder… how we could meet so often and not know one another at all. Well, at least on your part.
I seemingly, had memorised every detail of you that I could possibly soak in the mere four hours we got to be in the same room. I had managed to sneak as many looks as I could when I’m not busy making small conversation about the most irrelevant of things.. when I could just be staring at you.
As I see you, once again; across of sea of people; smiling and nodding at all the right times and saying all the right things to the right people, I am in awe of how beautiful you are with every movement that you make. Your delicate fingertips make everything they touch turn into gold; well not like Midas. Just the kind of poetic gold that seems to shine right on your forehead, onto your nose and to your beautiful neck.. where it rests, showing you off to the massive room of people who cannot get enough of you as it is. Everyone around you somehow seems duller in contrast and the room that we stand in seems to be in awe of you too. The lights hits your face at all the right angles and accentuate your sharp chin and your soft, thin lips. It brings out the glint in your chocolate brown eyes and makes one wonder what the mischief in them is all about. They always seem to be dancing.. as though searching for something.
And for the umpteenth time, I hoped that they were looking for me. That even with a sea of people around you, practically worshipping you, I hope that your eyes are looking for me.. wanting to meet another pair of eyes with the same mischief and magic. I pine for our eyes to meet and to make the instant connection that I always hoped that we would find.
I hope to find you in this room a hundred more times and I hope, against all odds and all logic that there is a time where I find you in here, all alone. And I hope that you stand right beneath this massive glass ball and stare at me.. and see that I’ve been here all this while, waiting for you to notice.. to look across this giant room filled strangers and see that I am here.. that I’ve always been here.
How can two eyes never meet and still somehow know the fate?