Do you know how long it has been?
The last time that someone had to look at the floor and hide his blushing cheeks only because I had walked in the room.
A hazy memory of what is was to know that he's hanging on every word and you're so brand new and his eyes and mind and soul can't get enough of breathing you in, like maybe one day he can let himself love someone like me.
Do you know how hard I have tried?
I didn't go to see him and I didn't answer when he called and I had gotten so good at pretending that I am the independent and life-loving woman that he thinks I am right now.
And how many times did I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how his hand rests on the back of his neck when he's working and the way he looks at me when he doesn't think I notice.
Do you know how much this means?
To not know him or how to read him and to want to know so badly and to believe that this one could be so important that he could make me feel safe.
All my daydreams and 5 a.m. imaginings intent on wanting nothing more than that first kiss, so pure and nervous and hopeful and he'll go home afterward and I'll stand at the door with my fingertips on my lips and I'll wonder...
Do you think we should have coffee tomorrow?
I think this deserves a shot because no one has felt this way in so long.
And ten minutes after he's left the room I still can't stop smiling. And he's not just a wish or a future plan, he's moved on to a definite maybe and I haven't wanted this in a while...
So I sigh, exhale all of the expectation and the would, could, shoulds - one step. One more baby step today. Maybe tomorrow we'll walk.
The last time that someone had to look at the floor and hide his blushing cheeks only because I had walked in the room.
A hazy memory of what is was to know that he's hanging on every word and you're so brand new and his eyes and mind and soul can't get enough of breathing you in, like maybe one day he can let himself love someone like me.
Do you know how hard I have tried?
I didn't go to see him and I didn't answer when he called and I had gotten so good at pretending that I am the independent and life-loving woman that he thinks I am right now.
And how many times did I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how his hand rests on the back of his neck when he's working and the way he looks at me when he doesn't think I notice.
Do you know how much this means?
To not know him or how to read him and to want to know so badly and to believe that this one could be so important that he could make me feel safe.
All my daydreams and 5 a.m. imaginings intent on wanting nothing more than that first kiss, so pure and nervous and hopeful and he'll go home afterward and I'll stand at the door with my fingertips on my lips and I'll wonder...
Do you think we should have coffee tomorrow?
I think this deserves a shot because no one has felt this way in so long.
And ten minutes after he's left the room I still can't stop smiling. And he's not just a wish or a future plan, he's moved on to a definite maybe and I haven't wanted this in a while...
So I sigh, exhale all of the expectation and the would, could, shoulds - one step. One more baby step today. Maybe tomorrow we'll walk.
