Even in busy halls, opposite sides of the road, and crowded rooms, I always look for you.
The space was always too great. Although the distance between us was only a couple of people, it was never as close as I wanted.
It wasn’t that I was unable to go and talk to you; it was that I couldn’t.
I couldn’t bring myself to force my way into your life like a wrecking ball, ready to crush and trample something someone spent hours crafting.
Even if I know I’m not significant enough to be a wrecking ball, I know that I’d cause a disturbance in my mind. The price of getting close to someone is an earthquake in the mind.
On a winter day, the orange sun sets early again. The light shines slowly through the windows as harsh shadows of people walking illuminate the walls like shadow puppets in a dream.
Our shadows clash.
We walk past each other without acknowledging that we exist. You are laughing with your friends. Smiling brightly, hair glowing. Face bright. Eyes shining. It stood out all too well to me. It always has.
There wasn’t an empty spot next to you.
I wanted there to be, but even if there was, it wasn’t a place for me. It was a place for someone else. It always was.
There was a queue of people that spot belonged to it before it ever belonged to me.
As we continue our steps on separate journeys, I can’t help but think.
Turn around.
I want you to turn around.
“Are you looking back at me?”
Just turn around to look at me.
“Are you looking?”
Will you tell me if you are looking?
But I’d never found out.
This was written as a short activity as part of a podcast I am on called Lagging Morals Podcast. Check it out here:
https://open.spotify.com/show/2F1tFBQSXJ7CMghPZknRbW?si=674e0763e7c445f2
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