Between the Silence
It's true that it started out as an accident. I didn't think I'd ever get this far. Though I'm thrilled about where we are now, I can't help but grieve the beginning. It was youthful, playful, and exciting. We shared messages and constant reminders about how we missed each other or the things we loved about each other. I would sit up, and my heart would race when I saw your message—even now, I still do—but this was different. Your constant reminders of how you missed my smile, how pretty I was, or even how you could hold me. It was nice and still is, but now I can't help asking myself, do you still like these things about me? I worry that I may have scared you or made you feel overwhelmed. My heart is full of love for everyone, especially you. I can quickly feel love, which often turns into me getting hurt. But even in these doubts, I find myself holding onto the moments that feel real. The way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention, the gentle touch of your hand when we’re sitting side by side. It’s almost like a secret language between us that no one else sees, but I feel it, and I wonder if you do too. I want to believe that you care, and still see the same things in me that you used to, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just holding onto a memory of us that no longer exists.
