youth, unpublished

the lift door opens. i try my best not to look at you.
we are waiting at the same bus stop. i try my best not to look at you.
we are running for the bus. i try my best not to look at you.
your band is on the stage. i try my best not to look at you.
i see you at a party. i try my best not to look at you.
we are making a video. i try my best not to look at you.
we are at a wedding. i try my best not to look at you.
i look at you looking at me looking at you.
you hardly knew me. i hardly knew you.
and yet, for two, three, seven, eight years, i tried my best not to look at you.
i wanted so badly for you to look at me. but there was nothing much to see.
one day, i look at you. worse, i speak to you.
"wanna catch a movie?"
"sure."
i steal some glances, turning into gazes, and to my surprise,
you are not you, the one i tried my best not to look at.
funny how that is, i laugh ironically to, at myself.
since then, i don't try my best not to look at you. I could look you in the eye, stoic and unflinching.

we look at different people now. we look like different people now.

but sometimes, i like to go back to that time.
to 3am in the morning on a school night.
running for the lights at the creak of my parents' door.
heart bursting through the ceiling as your name appears.
you are just above me in our little tower. sleepless. searching.
me for you. you for another. maybe.
to the fresh bittersweet feeling of longing in secret.
to the stories of you i created in my head.
to the what ifs and surprise meetings.
to the aching pain of missed opportunities.


(written in Dec 2013)