If only you’d just been a figment of my wild imagination- I wouldn’t have lost my voice at the sound of your name. I wouldn’t have lost my foot at the sight of you walking by. If only you weren’t as perfect as you are- it wouldn’t have been this difficult to pretend as if you’re not in the same room or the fact that you are doesn’t change anything. But you’re real,in flesh and bones and perfect glory; walking,talking and doing everything else with a grace I hadn’t seen in another human.
I’ve always wondered why I feel chills running through me when I see you looking at her like that. I know that look. It’s the same one that I give you when you’re not looking at me. The subtle glances, trying to pretend like you’re not looking at her, the same way I look at you. And the way you look at her perfectly clarifies that there isn’t a place in your heart left where she doesn’t reside; the same way you’ve taken over my heart.
I’ve come to conclusions that there’s no “us”, that your definition of “us” is nowhere near to mine, that the only thing that’s similar to our “us” is that we both have you in it.
When I was a child, I had asked my aunt what love is like. She just smiled and said,” When you cannot help but see if the other person is full before nibbling a bite of your own food, then you’ll get your answer.” Me, being the confused child that I was, just stared back at her wondering how it could be that simple. Now I come to wonder if wanting “us” to include you and her more than me and you is love. Because the way your face lightens up when when you look at her is enough to lighten up my entire day. Because you want her as much as I want you. Because as much as it hurts to say this, I know you wouldn’t notice my presence in a room with me, her and you, just like how everybody else is invisible to me when you’re in front.