The morning after I met him, I stared at the ceiling replaying our conversations.
You said too much; you smiled too much; you said goodbye more than once.
The conversations of the evening lived too vividly in my memories and kept choking me up.
I wonder why this was different from the ones I had with people previously.
I had known him prior to today; we texted a bit, business related, but I didn't care that much — though that morning held a different type of weight.
I was getting pissed because he worked on my laptop for too long; I was tired from the long day.
I was to return to my hometown because it was getting late.
But immediately he was done and we started conversing, things felt different and peaceful — way too peaceful.
I don't exhibit that much patience with others, so why him?
I tried to pinpoint the reasons I felt the way I did.
Maybe it was because he asked about my day and listened to me yab about it regardless of the fact that he was tired; but everyone asks how my day was, and I didn't find it this consuming.
I thought about the fact that maybe he didn't hear me properly because I talk fast and it's hard for first-time listeners to keep up; hearing me was hard, but he still listened.
And I was so bothered — wondering if he really heard, or struggled so hard just to hear.
He asked about my name; this is my worst question, but I got to voice it out with ease.
I got to voice out the hurt inflicted on me by my friend, even though he may not have accepted the judgement I gave.
I kept reminiscing about how his eyes squinted when he smiled.
I thought of his smile as the prettiest I have ever seen, in a way.
I saw a good view of it when he was shook me because I failed to keep my promise.
It was like the world looked more beautiful through his eyes than I had ever seen it before.
The last thing I told him threw me off guard.
I don't think he needed that information.
And this tormented me through the morning, aside from the evening I so enjoyed.
I didn't know where my feelings lay — if it was infatuation, a crush, just appreciating God's beautiful creation, or hope for something more.
The evening played in my head a thousand times, and each time I couldn't get enough of it.
We texted a bit the evening I arrived, but that was it; I can't press further, as much as I would love to.
I tried as much as I could to come back to reality; I was struggling with the pages of my book, as I had a test and needed to read.
Those words became tougher and harder to understand with each attempt to comprehend, like I had never read in my life.
I needed to get my shit together, since he doesn't know I am feeling this way towards him.
I had to choose between failing my test or feeding my silly obsession over a guy.
Passing my test was the priority; the latter could wait.
I spent the rest of my evening reading, and eventually, it got easier.
I know we cannot be a thing, but I am grateful for this memory.
