Saturday, August 11, 2012

Gone Too Long.

When you get home will you know my face?
Will you love my smile? Will you feel the same?
We'll just pick up where we left back in June.

He was here, and just as quickly, he was gone; off to another state, nearly 600 miles away.
It's ironic, and almost ludicrous, that I acted like such a baffled schoolgirl when he was here before.
I got lost in the sound of his voice, and caught up in the warmth of his incredible smile.
I was too shy and cowardly to even look his way from time to time.
(Especially when I knew he was watching.)
I only stole a few glances, here and there, when time allowed.
We shared classes and teachers, and friends and neighbors, but I couldn't seem to approach him and tell him how magnificent his story was to me, or even cause my hoarse throat to let out a simple, "Hello." 
So, I hid behind the shoulders of those who were fortunate enough to know him. 
I jumped in on conversations, and slowly learned more about him in bits and pieces.

 Before I knew it, the air turned thick and dry, as June slowly settled in.
School ended, and he no longer had any reason to reside within this silent town; he was scheduled to head back to where he was raised.
I no longer needed to barge in on his conversations with others, and I could no longer glance over to my right, with the assurance that he'd be right there.
People had said their goodbye's, and my hello was still caught in the middle of my burning throat; I still couldn't make any words come out. 
So he left, and my thoughts remained untouched and unspoken. 
{But the ending is not completely sour.}
One warm June night he messaged me, asking me how my summer had been, and various other questions to form meaningless small talk. 
Before I knew it, the bags beneath my eyes got heavier, as my body clock transformed around our conversations. 
1 am became 1:30am, which became 2am, which most nights ended up being 2:30am.
I couldn't believe that the boy with the beautiful smile had finally acknowledged my existence. 
So, here we are, two months later.
Tomorrow, he'll be here. 
And I can't tell you how overjoyed I am to see him.

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