Imagining Things

Imagining Things

It might have been easier if I had said something or just turned and walked away the moment I felt it.

But I didn’t.

I try imagining what my life would have been like if I had opened my mouth and told him I liked him, but instead, I kept on imagining how empty and even more boring my life would be without him in it.

I have known him for a while, it was nothing too grand, nothing too exciting. No ‘sent chills down my spine’ kind of thing.

Meeting him was as ordinary as it can be, becoming his friend was a surprise but nothing compared to that jolting feeling I felt that one night.

We were smiling at each other when he leaned in, we were a bit drunk, and he kissed me on the forehead.

It could have been the warmth of his lips against my skin or the mere surprising gesture itself that awoken me. I tried to tell myself it was nothing, he was just being his sweet self.

Then there were shared cab rides where we held hands in the dark, slightly intoxicated. I figured he just misses having someone to hold when he’s drunk.

But there were those times when he’s sober as a new day when he’d reach out to touch me lightly, steal a hug, or lean in a little too close.

I’d sometimes see him from the corners of my eyes staring at me as I speak, look at photographs, and laugh.

And I swear I could almost feel him looking at me in awe, but I will never know for sure for though his words sounded true and sweet they only confuse me.

Perhaps, it’s just a phase.

I guess it’s just the way he is and I’m just imagining things.

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