We spent half of the night writing to each
other in an open Microsoft Word Document
on your laptop. We didn't speak. Just typed in
silence. Words too silly for actual verbal speech.
But in the context of Microsoft Word it all seemed
'good' or 'important' or 'sentimental'.
We looked at each other, in silence. Eyes locked.
Knowing things. Things we didn't know we knew.
And it was kind of great.
And you typed things I will never repeat. Things that
still haunt my sleep, things I will never repeat. Things
that weren't true, things you didn't mean. Because how
could you mean any of that when here I am typing this
up? Haunted by words that you threw up to make me smile,
to make me respond, to make me crazy.
Some time later, the next day we had our first kiss. And I knew
then that it was the end of something great. Great but not all real.
Something great but not all real that I still feel.